How to Train Your Hiccstrid
by ladyamethyst21
Summary: A collection in progress of my Hiccstrid shorts and one-shots. Expect smut, fluff and lemons in equal measure. I'm rating the whole thing M to be safe. Mainly Hiccup and Astrid but some of the other guys might turn up too. Starts with 'Homecoming Queen', smut to be sure. Reviews and advice always welcome! You know I don't own HTTYD - you know I wish I did... :-)
1. Homecoming Queen Part One

**This one dedicated to the wonderful ShipMistress...thank you for all the inspiration my lovely! And for your amazing videos which are a joy and a massive help (Seriously readers, if you ship Hiccstrid and you haven't seen her work - go to YouTube and search ShipMistress. You can thank me later).**

 **Astrid and Hiccup, Hiccup and Astrid. They're almost always together, except when someone is cursed. Or drowning. Or lost. Or kidnapped. Or dealing with Snotlout. You know, some massive dramatic occurrence requiring daring-do, last minute rescues, adventure or just boatloads of patience. But what if they were separated for longer and by something much more mundane? I wonder how waiting-it-out might affect this adrenaline-driven pair? Well, not now I don't. Because I've written it. I hope you like it.**

 **Homecoming Queen (Part One)**

All across Dragon's Edge the sound reverberated, loud and harsh and unfamiliar. It wasn't a sound The Edge was used to, not one that was heard there often. It was Hiccup. He stood in the clubhouse, freckles blazing, facing down his two lanky, blonde friends and _yelling_. Red in the face, wake the dead in Valhalla, call down the Valkyries kind of yelling.

"What I am _saying_ guys, is that you two can't claim that you've _finished_ cleaning the stable when the place isn't actually _clean_!" Tuff opened his mouth but quickly shut it again when Hiccup loudly continued, "And no, Tuffnut, I will not 'give you a break' because 'at least you moved the dirt around in an interesting way'. I said the stable needs cleaning so, the pair of you, CLEAN THE GODSDAMNED STABLE!"

"But it's boring!" moaned Ruffnut, "We've been doing it all day!"

Hiccup glared. In unison, Ruff and Tuff backed away a step. It was rare that Hiccup lost his temper, but when he did, they usually preferred to be further away. Preferably back on Berk.

"Yakshit! Doing it all day? I saw Barf and Belch land here not half an hour ago. Whatever you _have_ been doing all day, it's not what I _told_ you to do! For Thor's sake! You know what is boring, Ruff? Having to repeat myself endlessly every godsdamned time I give you muttonheads a job!" He always waved his hands while he talked but right now he was gesturing violently, "And don't even start me on your boar pit expansion plan, as if we don't have better things to do…" The roar was cut short by the appearance of Snotlout, loud and indignant as always.

"Hiccup! I can hear you even with the dome closed! What's with all the rage? Me and Hookfang are trying to chill! Even warriors like us need our downtime and all this noise is not good for our vibe."

"Downtime?" Hiccup rounded sharply on the shorter, stocky teen, much to Ruff and Tuff's relief. "Downtime? Did you even attempt to collect the wood we need today? And your hut is still a total shambles, when are you going to get the gronkle iron on it? And…"

"Whoa, whoa," Snotlout held up his hands, "if I wanted nagging, I would live at home and listen to my Dad! What's up with this guy?" he asked the twins, "I thought we'd seen the back of Princess Outpost?"

"Snotlout," Hiccup hissed through gritted teeth, "Thor help me, I knocked you down once, do not make me do it again."

Tuffnut stepped forward, grinning excitedly "No, _do_ make him do it again Snotlout! It was excellent!"

"Yeah!" his sister gleefully echoed, "Especially the way your head bounced off the floor! I know - ask him if he's going full 'Red Death' on us because he's missing Astrid! That should do it!" Ruffnut high-fived her brother and the pair of them looked at Snotlout expectantly.

"Aggghhhh!" Hiccup flung his hands up in frustration and strode out of the clubhouse onto the front landing, glaring at the ocean as if it was responsible for the gaping hole in his life. The twins and Snot peered cautiously out of the door as he visibly struggled to regain his control.

"Psssshh, hit a nerve there Sis."

"Yeah, for sure. But violence would have been way cooler. Total let down. How long since Astrid went back to Berk anyway?"

"Five weeks." Snotlout contributed.

"When's she coming back?"

He shrugged. "I don't know Ruff, when her Mom's better I guess."

"I hope it's soon," Ruffnut drawled, "or Hiccup is going to flay us alive. And you do not want to know how Tuff would look without his skin. It's bad enough looking at him in it."

"I concur dear sister, though not about my beautiful skin. It's the mutton butter facial," he added in an aside to Snotlout, "I recommend it. But you're right, this atmosphere is most unproductive. I couldn't tell you when Chicken last laid an egg."

Snotlout frowned, "Isn't Chicken a cockerel?"

"What's your point?"

The waves of nonsense beat on Hiccup, tugging on his frayed nerves and he turned back to face his three nervous friends, breathing in deeply. They braced themselves for another onslaught but the arrival of an out-of-breath Fishlegs saved them all.

"Terror mail!" The husky boy panted as he handed out the various scrolls and notes from Berk. "One for you guys from Not-so-silent Sven, looks like a bill?"

"A bill?" Tuff laughed warily taking, but not opening, the message, "Whatever could that mean? We don't know anything about…oh, I don't know… for a guess...just a shot in the dark you understand… his missing wool. For example. Do we Sis?"

"Us? No, no, no no no. Not unless it's the wool we borrowed to cover Mildew's hut and make him think it was snowing? Kept him indoors for a week!"

"Sven couldn't be angry about that surely! Isn't having Mildew away for seven days payment enough?"

Fishlegs rolled his eyes. "One parcel for you Snotlout. Addressed to 'Mommy's Little Warrior'. Aww, is little Snottykins missing his Mommy's cooking?"

"Shut it Fishface, if your Mom cooked as well as mine, you'd want food parcels too." His voice was quickly muffled by the happy sound of food being wolfed down, "Ummmm, yak butter parfait…."

"And one for you Hiccup. Looks like it's from..."

"Astrid."

Smiling finally, Hiccup snatched the scroll from Fishlegs and tore it open, eagerly scanning the runes. Abruptly, his face darkened as with coming thunder and he rammed the paper into a pocket.

"Shit. I'm going flying." He stormed past the others, turned and waved fiercely in the direction of the stables, "Get those finished!"

His wild gesture succeeded in knocking Snotlout's parfait out of his hands and down his tunic. "And get that cleaned up!" Then Hiccup was on Toothless and gone, heading into the clouds. Snotlout eyed the dripping yellow mess down his front and his lip trembled.

"I really, really wish Astrid would come back."

o0o

It was hours before Hiccup returned to the Edge and then only at Toothless' insistence. He himself would have been quite happy to stay up in the rapidly blackening sky, the light perfectly matching his mood, but Toothless was tired, hungry and, quite frankly, fed up of carrying round a ball of bad temper and hormones. They landed at Hiccup's door and the black dragon huffily headed to the stables in search of supper and more pleasant company. Hiccup watched him go, guiltily, but couldn't quite bring himself to call his friend back. There was really only one face he wanted to see that night, and it was miles and miles away. _She_ was miles and miles away.

Heading through the door Hiccup's knees buckled with a sudden weakness and he cursed himself. What was wrong with him? Staying out and up that long had been a stupid thing to do and now his muscles were telling him so in a way he hadn't felt since being a real novice rider back at fifteen. Acting like a muttonhead wasn't going to bring Astrid home any quicker. Gasping and cursing all the way up the stairs, he dragged himself to his bed and flopped down, willing sleep to come and take away all the aches. One more night would be one night closer to the day he would have Astrid back. Not that he had any idea when that would be. Tossing and turning, he screwed his blanket up into a ball, flattened it out again, rolled it into a pillow, rolled it back out, lay on it, lay under it, threw the damn thing across the room.

"FUCK IT!" he fell back against the headboard. "Fuck it," he repeated, more softly this time, "I swear Astrid, if you don't come home soon, I will go mad."

Suddenly remembering, Hiccup scrabbled in his seemingly endless pockets, throwing out various pencil nubs, parchment scraps, nuts, bolts and dragon scales, finally finding Astrid's letter. Earlier he hadn't made it past the first few lines, but maybe now hearing from his absent girlfriend would help him sleep.

 _Babe, I miss you. Mom is a lot better, Gothi says she'll be fine, but she's still pretty weak (I miss you). So, I'm sorry, but I can't come home yet. I have to stay here a while more. Did I mention that I miss you?_

He groaned. "Thor, I miss you too, Milady."

 _It's pretty dull here. Not much to report. How are things there?_

"The twins are driving me crazy and Snotlout is an idiot. I hate not having you to talk to."

 _I expect Snot's being an idiot the twins are driving you crazy. I bet you wish you had me to talk to!_

 _I'm going a little crazy too. Sickrooms and sitting still are not my thing. Thinking about you is getting me through. Can't believe it's been five weeks since I saw you. Too, too long._

 _I've been thinking about the night before I left. Up on the cliffs? Remember? I've been thinking about that - a lot._

Blood rushed to Hiccup's cheeks and he swallowed. Thor, he definitely did remember that night. Surely she wasn't…

 _The way you held me, your lips, your hands in my hair, our tongues sliding together. It was so warm, I hardly noticed when my shirt came off; I remember taking off yours. Gods, your naked skin, hot against mine. I love it._

Oh sweet Freyja singing, this was unfair! Not only did he miss his best friend and second in command, Hiccup was now firmly reminded that he was also missing his lover, something he had been trying, and failing, not to think about. His beautiful, irresistible lover. The thought made his face flush again and his throat tightened. What was he supposed to…he shifted uncomfortably inside his suddenly constricting clothing. Heat spread from his face and down his chest, memories of Astrid's glowing white skin under his work-roughened hands sending hot shivers through his body and chasing thoughts of sleep away entirely.

 _You ran your fingers down my neck, do you remember? And then kissed your way back up. You bit my ear, my neck, my shoulder, like you wanted to eat me. Your teeth! It made me crazy, it made me want you so badly. I bit you back I think. Did the mark last long?_

It had lasted for days, a perfectly circular bruise, over his heart.

 _I hope it did. I marked you Hiccup Haddock, I claim you. You're mine._

Damn, he was too hot. Quickly, he unbuckled his belt and stripped down to his tunic. His leathers went the way of the blanket.

 _I was sitting in your lap, do you remember? You were crushing me against you so tightly, did you feel my nipples hard against your chest? I wanted you. I know you wanted me, I felt you. Rising hard under me. Your eyes were black with wanting me. I remember the groan you made when I ground my hips against you. Gods, that sound. I miss your noises. If you were here now… And then I felt your hand, sliding up my thigh, under my skirt, searching for me, finding how wet I was. For you. Do you remember Hiccup? Are you thinking about it now?_

His head swam, his eyes blurred, he could read no more. An electric tremor ran over him and he crushed the letter in his fist. He was filled with images of her, her wild scent, softness over hard muscle, the hot taste of her skin, legs wrapping around him, pulling him down, pulling him in…it was too much! Eyes closing, breathing hard, he reached down. Reached for the leather ties holding closed his trousers.

 **A/N - Noooo, of course that isn't the end! The clue is in the title. Hush, can you hear the sound of wings in the air? Part Two as soon as I can, I promise.**


	2. Homecoming Queen Part Two

**Ok, here we are. Apologies for longer than intended delay. There's this thing called 'real life', you may have heard of it? It tends to get in the way of the fun stuff. But now here's the fun stuff! I told you I heard wings in the air...**

 **Homecoming Queen - Part Two**

Out over the ocean, night was truly falling and the air was growing frigid. Astrid's skin was goose-bumped by the breeze but she was kept warm by the knowledge that every beat of Stormfly's wings was bringing her closer to Dragon's Edge. And closer to Hiccup.

Her mother had been right to send her away from Berk; any more time spent watching her convalesce would have driven Astrid mad. She needed to be busy, she needed space, she needed adventure, challenge. And she needed her boy. She was a little annoyed that it had become obvious enough for her mother to notice,

("My girl, you've a face like a smacked arse, and looking at it is not making me feel any better. You've been a big help, but I'm fine now. Go home; I'm sure you've got things to be getting on with on your fancy outpost. And maybe a certain someone's waiting for you, eh?")

but Hel, five weeks! She'd never gone this long without seeing him; she was surprised that her every second sentence wasn't "I miss Hiccup".

"Yes Dad, Mum ate her lunch and I miss Hiccup". "No Gustav, you can't call yourself 'junior dragon master' and I miss Hiccup."

She sighed. Well, not for much longer. She was almost home.

She wondered what he had made of her letter. It should have arrived…when? This morning? Had he even read it yet? Astrid imagined the adorable blush, the surprise on his face as he read her words. She grinned. She'd been surprised enough to find herself writing them! But it had been a night fully worth remembering and over the distance between them, she had wanted to be sure he had been thinking of her as much as she had been thinking of him. Raising her arms high above her head, she stretched luxuriously. Flying long distance always gave her a weird, restive feeling, like she couldn't sit still, like she wanted to _move_ , almost like she could fly on her own. She needed grounding. And she was pretty sure about what she needed grounding on… The girl blushed fiercely at her own bawdy thoughts even as quick excited shivers rushed through her. Reflexively, her thighs tightened, as if to control the growing heat between them. Stormfly squawked and faltered, lost the rhythm of her flight. "Shit!" They fell a few feet before Astrid regained control and they were flying smoothly again. She shook her head to clear it of the sudden burst of images, flashes of flesh, hands, teeth… another sudden drop tore the bottom from her stomach. "Shiiit!" Stormfly looked reprovingly over her shoulder at her embarrassed rider.

"Sorry! Sorry girl. It's just… Ok. Thinking about other things for the rest of the flight. Like…..food. Are you hungry girl? Did you see those cakes Mrs Laarson made yesterday? I should have brought you one. Those were great buns. Damn… _buns_ …."

And now all those images were back. Astrid groaned. It was clear she wasn't going to win any points for innocence in any word association today. She leaned out over Stormfly's neck. "Come on girl, let's see how fast you can go."

At last, the torches littering the Edge's walkways came into view and Astrid grinned. "Finally girl! Come on, let's get down there." She steered Stormfly to swoop in for a landing at her hut and was nearly thrown off when the dragon instead banked sharply left. "Whoa! What's the matter with you?" Stormfly landed with a hop outside the stables and, as Astrid jumped out of the saddle, trilled a call. Immediately, Toothless bounded out to greet them; the two dragons bumped and nudged each other in an exuberant hello. "Oh, I get it, you saw Toothless." She pulled Stormfly's saddle off and checked quickly that there were enough fish to keep the two of them happy through the night. "No problem, you play with your friend." Patting each dragon affectionately on the nose, she looked up, to where light still shone from Hiccup's hut. "I'm gonna go play with mine."

o0o

Outside his door, Astrid hesitated, heart bumping. The light was coming from upstairs, maybe Hiccup was already in bed? He did like to read before sleep. Maybe she should surprise him, slip into the hut without announcing herself, slip into the sheets… Looking up towards the roof window Toothless usually used, she smiled. Easy. Stripping off her pauldrons for quiet and her boots for better grip she quickly scaled the walls of the hut, reaching the roof in seconds. Her breath was coming quickly and her heart raced, but whether that was the exertion or the thought of finally, _finally_ seeing Hiccup again she couldn't say. There were small sounds coming through the window. Maybe not asleep yet then. She grabbed the window ledge and swung her lithe frame through the opening and landed silently as a cat on his floor. Grinning, she scanned the room, expecting to see him sitting up startled by her dramatic entry, but instead she was the one frozen. Astrid could swear her heart stopped and then started again, beating double time. Her skin trembled with a wave of shocked heat and behind her breastband her nipples tightened painfully, the sight meeting her eyes bringing them swiftly to hard peaks. She bit back a low groan of pure lust. Oh _holy Thor_.

The object of all her recent thoughts and fantasies was right there on his bed as she'd imagined. But she'd never imagined him quite like this. Stripped down to just his open-necked tunic, Hiccup was half-sitting, half-lying, propped against the headboard, head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, face and chest glistening with sweat. Astrid's gaze travelled down his body, the red fabric rucked up over his taut stomach and down…she bit her lip, stifling another groan. His trousers were open, pushed down to his knees and she drank in the revealed curve of his ass, his tight thighs straining. One hand was twisted in the sheets and in the other Hiccup gripped his very much awake cock. His fist moved rapidly up and down the swollen length and she watched, riveted, as with each sweep of his hand his back arched and he lifted up onto his shoulders, opposing his straining hips. Her eyes snagged on the crumpled paper lying next to him. Her letter. Realising it was her words that had caused this reaction, Astrid's thighs clenched again against the sudden rush of damp heat. Hiccup moaned. Sweet Freyja singing, he was beautiful. And he had absolutely no idea she was watching him.

She would soon fix that. Swiftly, silently, she bent and stripped off her leggings, never looking away from the unbelievably debauched scene in front of her. Bare now, her thighs rubbed together stickily under her skirt. Gods, the sight of him was almost more than she could stand. Her shirt came off too and the cool air against her chest tightened her nipples even more. Brushing her hand across her breastband she fought a gasp as the sensation almost brought her to her knees. Enough! She crossed the room and knelt at the bedside. The heat came off him in waves, beating against her bare skin. Hiccup's breath came hard and heavy, his pace slowing, his movements rougher. She knew that look and, when he paused just for a moment, she took her chance and leaned in. Hiccup was so lost in his world of heat and pleasure, in memories of the sight and scent of Astrid, that it wasn't until her soft wet lips closed round him that he even knew she was really there.

"Wha…!" Hiccup tried to sit up but Astrid's warm hand pressed against his belly keeping him down. "Oh my Thor, Astrid, when did you ge- aagghhhh…" Seeing his astonished face she had laughed against him, low in her throat, and the tremors had stolen his words leaving him with nothing but a guttural moan. He fell back, totally helpless. Blue eyes dancing, gaze never leaving him, mouth never leaving him, she slithered up onto the bed, straddling his leg. Her hot flesh pressed down onto his thigh and he felt wetness, sliding. Holy Odin in Valhalla, where were her leggings? She ground herself onto him and at the same time slid her lips down, taking more of him in and again stealing all coherent thought. His hands frantically clenched the sheets as she suckled his whole length, at first gently, then more fiercely, pulling up to circle him rapidly with her tongue, licking and probing, before repeating the whole thing, again and again and again. His breath was sobbing out of him now, his chest was heaving and he was begging, he had no idea what for, "Astrid, Astrid, please. Please!" One final time she drew her mouth up, leaving him gasping as she deliberately scraped against the sensitive skin with her sharp white teeth. He reached for her but she was gone and he felt the shock of cool air. Before Hiccup had time to react, she had turned, gone to her knees and, holding the footboard, bent to show him exactly what lay under her skirt. Looking back over her shoulder Astrid raised an eyebrow and one corner of her mouth lifted in a challenging smile. The invitation was clear and he took it, rising to kneel behind her and pushing himself home in one long stroke that made them both cry out.

Buried deep they paused, gasping, revelling in finally being one again. Then, holding her hips, Hiccup began to move, at first stroking slowly and deliberately but as Astrid's gasps became cries, with more force. She writhed under him but he held her fast, pounding in and out of her beautiful body until she felt her bones melt and he lost all sense of where he ended and she began. Finally, he wrapped his hand in her braid and, falling back to sit on his feet, pulled her into his lap tight against his chest. Guiding her head over to the side he leaned to breathe in her ear, "I remember," before biting fiercely into her exposed shoulder. She shrieked and her walls convulsed around him, pushing him finally over the edge, dragging them both down into the dark.

Minutes or hours later they woke, coming back to themselves, a sweaty, tangled bundle of skin and bedsheets. As they untangled and their eyes met, they began to giggle, then to laugh. Hiccup collapsed back to the bed and opened his arms; Astrid fell gratefully to curl against his chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat in comfortable silence. Finally, she leaned back a little and smiled up at him. "Missed me did ya?"

He chuckled but answered quite seriously, pausing only to kiss her long and thoroughly. "Oh yes. More than life. More than breathing."

She turned slightly in his arms, drawing up her knees before allowing them to fall gently open, exposing again the shadows under her skirt. Taking his hand, she placed it high on her thigh. "Show me." And, though it took the rest of the night and into the morning, he did.

o0o

It was still early when the twins cautiously approached the clubhouse, peering slowly around the door. They wanted breakfast, but not another verbal beating from Hiccup. To their dismay he was already there, staring deep into a steaming cup. He looked terrible, like he'd had no sleep at all. "Crap." Ruffnut whispered but as they attempted to escape Hiccup's head snapped up.

"Ruff, Tuff," he barked, "I need to speak to you again about yesterday." The twins stiffened but he continued "I'm sorry, you're right. You guys have been working hard recently. Why don't you take the day off? Spend some quality time with Barf and Belch. In fact, there's that field up on the southern slopes, you know, where we were thinking of putting some sheep? There are far too many stones and stumps in it at the minute, so, if you fancy a day of blowing stuff up, you'd be doing me a favour."

They stared in incredulous silence at his gentle, open smile. Suddenly, it widened and he beamed; it was as if the sun had come up inside the clubhouse. Following his gaze, the twins turned to see Astrid, lounging against the door frame, arms folded, smiling too.

"Hey guys, good to see you."

"Ahhhh," Tuffnut nodded sagely, "I see. I see indeed. Ok boss, you're the boss. Barf! Belch! Wake your lazy selves up, there's gassing and blasting to do!" And he ran out of the clubhouse, pausing only to high-five Astrid as he passed. Ruffnut, on the other hand, sauntered toward the door. As she reached Astrid, Ruff stopped, took Astrid's face between her hands and planted a long, long kiss on her lips. Moving back, she looked deep into Astrid's eyes and whispered fervently, " _Thank you_ " before racing off to join her brother.

"What," Astrid wiped her arm across her mouth as she walked over to join Hiccup, "in _Thor's name_ , was that about?" Laughing, he took her hand and pulled her to sit in his lap.

"I don't know. Perhaps they're just as pleased to see you back as I am." He dropped a gentle kiss onto the end of her nose. "Welcome home, Milady."


	3. Dangerous Games 1

**A/N: I see this one as being set shortly before HTTYD2, during the transition from living on Dragon's Edge to being back on Berk (which I assume has to happen some time!). Hiccup and Astrid's relationship is very well established but not yet 'official' and they're finding it hard to get any alone time. Hence...**

 **And yes (you know who you are) the skirt. No, I'm not sorry.**

 **Dangerous Games 1**

The meeting in the hall is running long, much longer than it was meant to. The afternoon sun is wasting and Bucket is still droning on about net supplies and fishing grounds and what they have in stock for winter as opposed to devastating winter and Hiccup isn't listening to any of it. He knows he should be. Because he knows it's important. And he is trying. But sitting across the table from him is Astrid. Gorgeous, beautiful Astrid, staring right at him and, sweet Freyja, the look in her eyes. Oh, he knows that look, though they've been so busy helping out with winter preparations on Berk it's been almost three weeks since he last saw it. It's a look much better suited for dark corners, closed doors and privacy than for public meetings, especially ones chaired by his father of all people, but nevertheless he can't tear his own eyes from it. From her. Something about the sheer inappropriateness of _that_ look in _this_ setting makes it even more compelling and he has to shift a little in his seat. She smiles, a tiny, tiny smile, almost a smirk, and he flushes. She knows exactly what she's doing. Under the table he clenches his fingers into a fist, digs his nails into his palm and wills himself to concentrate on what Bucket is saying. Fish. Yes, the very, very important fish. For winter. So that they don't all starve to death. As he's starving now.

Hiccup twists on his stool, turning his shoulder a little towards her. Now he can't see her properly and maybe he can concentrate. But Astrid is having none of that. He sees movement in the corner of his eye and, unwillingly, his gaze is dragged back to her. She reaches across the table, snags a pencil, placed in the centre in the futile hope someone might one day take notes, and rolls it suggestively back and forth in her long slim fingers as she sits again. She looks away from him towards the speaker, studiously ignoring his agonised eyes and when she opens her mouth slightly and begins to tap the pencil against her bottom lip, it looks for all the world like she's concentrating on Bucket's speech and the fish problem. Except he knows she isn't. Astrid never fidgets, every move she makes has a purpose and that purpose right now seems to be to drive him utterly crazy. Watching her, he can't help but remember all the thousands of times he's tasted those lips, pressed his own against them, parted them with his tongue. He swallows hard. Her mouth opens a little further now as her perfect teeth begin to nip, seemingly absently, around and down the wood. She still isn't looking at him but her eyes are sparkling and he knows that she knows he's staring. Suddenly she bites firmly down, leaving those tiny dents he's seen so often in his own flesh and he has to stifle a groan. This is just not fair! His knuckles are crushed white, the tension in his body almost unbearable and he is one moment away from leaping over the table and taking her there and then, when,

"Hiccup! Hiccup, boy, are you even listening?" His father's voice cuts through his red-faced reverie like a particularly large axe through yak butter. "I asked you a question!"

"Sorry Dad," he stutters, "I was miles away, what was it?"

"I said, do you think you can come up with some way to store the rest of the autumn catch without it spoiling before the freeze comes? What was that ice-storage thing you were working on?"

"Errm…" He has absolutely no idea, there isn't a thought in his head that isn't Astrid, but, mercifully, it is Astrid who saves him.

"Sure Chief, you mean the one back on Dragon's Edge. We can build something like that here, no problem." She slides her gaze back to Hiccup as she adds, "Hiccup's very good with his hands…"

Holy Thor, she almost purrs! How does no one else notice?

"Great. Then that's enough for today," the Chief concludes the meeting. "Hiccup, I'll see the rest of the council out, and then we need to look at your timetable for when you're going to be here rather than on the Edge over winter. There's chiefing to be done every season! Just give me a moment." Stoick stands and ushers the other council members towards to door, most of them still grumbling as they go. Astrid carefully places her implement of torture back on the table and goes to file past him, but Hiccup blocks her way.

"Astrid." His voice is choked, throaty. She looks up at him through her lashes, her smile all wide-eyed innocence.

"Hiccup?"

He growls. "You, Milady, are playing a very dangerous game."

Her body language changes in an instant, now she's all smirk and sass. Pressing one hand to his chest she leans in very close and breathes in his ear "But am I winning?"

Her hot breath against his neck sends shivers coursing through him and it is enough. More than enough. Casting one quick glance towards the door where his father has been collared by a particularly skinny old viking, he grabs her hand and pulls her to the back of the hall, into the shadows. Pressing her firmly back against a pillar, he is on his knees and up inside her skirt in seconds.

"Hiccup!" she gasps, "What are you doing?"

His reply is muffled, but the grin is audible. "I'll give you exactly one guess."

"But your Dad!"

"Is stuck with Mildew." As he speaks, his hands travel up her thighs to the top of her leggings, where his fingers hook into the waistband and begin to tug them down. "Which gives me at least five minutes. You'll just have to keep your eyes open."

She is bare beneath the skirt now and his firm hands are holding her hips while his thumbs scribe tiny circles along her skin, getting closer and closer to where she desperately does and does not want him to go. He leans in, plants tiny kisses on her inner thigh, where she is already slick. "So, it's not just me who found your little performance interesting then?" His kisses turn to nibbles and she breathes in sharply as she feels his teeth.

"Hiccup. No. We can't! Stop it."

"Really?"

He bites into the top of her left thigh then pushes his tongue into the crease where her leg meets her groin, sliding down, down. She hisses and shudders but manages to get one hand on his shoulder, "I said, stop it!" She pushes him away abruptly. One hand uncovers his face so he can see her, though he leaves the other on her naked hip and his fingers never quite still.

"Hiccup, no, enough, not here, it's…"

"Risky? Bad? Wicked?" His smile is sly and infectious. "Tell me no one more time Milady and I'll stop. Just say it. Say no." His hand leaves her hip, slides down the curve of her behind, his fingertips just edging into the moist heat between her legs. She wriggles, unconsciously opening for his touch. He doesn't take the invitation. Instead he stills, stares up at her. "Say it one more time and I'll stop." He will. She knows he will. She trusts him absolutely. But those fingertips…she draws a long breath as he speaks. "Tell me no. One. More. Time." Despite the place, the time, the risk, despite everything, Astrid finds she cannot say a word.

She lifts her hand slowly from his shoulder and Hiccup takes that for the 'yes' that it is. Diving back into the dark he runs a trail of kisses up her thigh until he reaches the top where he buries his face in her soft thatch.

"Gods, you smell amazing."

He kisses her again then, without warning, presses his tongue down into her heat, giving her one long slow lick that sets her on fire and sends her head swimming. Her legs buckle and he has to push her back against the pillar as she braces her knees into his shoulders. He grins, high on her submission.

"You taste amazing too."

His hands are holding her ass, half grabbing, half lifting, and with this new angle his tongue is everywhere. He teases her; alternating long, slow licks with light, fast flicks that explore every inch of her fevered flesh and leave her struggling to hold back her whimpers. He knows exactly what he is doing to her and her little muffled noises spur him on. She slips beyond all reason, drowning in sensation as he focuses his attentions on the throbbing bundle at her centre. At first he strokes against the nub gently, then more firmly and as he closes his lips around it and begins to suck, her hands scrabble desperately for something to grab on to, finally clenching in his hair. She strains towards him and he knows she is close. Taking more of her weight against his shoulders, he frees up one hand to plunge a strong finger deep into her and she shrieks silently. He pulls out, pushes in again, twisting, turning, stroking all the secret places within her that only he knows. A second finger joins the first and stretches her exquisitely in rhythm with his unstoppable sucking. She fights to keep her eyes open, to watch the door, but when she hears the boom of distant Viking laughter it's all too much. The sudden thrill of fear and the terror of getting caught, added to Hiccup's relentless mouth and fingers, picks her up and swipes her clear over the edge. She throws back her head, bites her lip and tastes copper as her hands in his hair do all her screaming for her.

Hiccup feels her go and moves to grasp her hips, cradling her carefully between his hands as she shakes, holding her upright. Eventually the grip on his hair eases, she relaxes, leans back on the pillar and they remain still, both breathing hard. What seems an eternity later, he presses his lips to her trembling core one last time and stands, pulling her clothes back into place as he does. She is staring ahead dazedly but as she focuses on his face he slowly, deliberately wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and licks his finger in the lewdest gesture Astrid has ever seen. Her insides twist with desire all over again and he knows it. He leans in, wipes a smear of red off her swollen lip with his thumb and cups her chin, bringing her blue eyes up to meet his deep green. This time he is the one smirking as he asks,

"Now who's winning?"

She opens her mouth to retort but Stoick's voice sounds from the middle of the room, "Hiccup? Hiccup! Where have you got to boy?"

He answers quickly, perfectly playing the innocent.

"Here, Dad, just talking with Astrid. On my way." Releasing her chin, he kisses her nose gently. "Later, Milady."

The punch takes him by surprise but before he can react to it she is kissing him hard, then shoving him away.

"That was just round one, Haddock." she half hisses,smiling, "Just round one. And boy, are you in trouble now."

Then she is gone, sauntering past the Chief with a respectful nod and pausing at the door to call sassily, "Round one Hiccup, remember that!" before disappearing out into the sunshine.

Hiccup walks back into the light, rubbing his bruised arm and smiling distractedly. His father is waiting impatiently for him at the table with an armful of parchment.

"What was all that about son?"

"What? Oh, nothing Dad, just one of Astrid's little games. You know how she gets."

Stoick takes in his son's dishevelled hair and smug expression and decides it's best to ask no more. "All right then. Let's look at this list. You do the writing. We can divide up the winter jobs between us, depending on when you'll be away, that way we can get more done before the weather really changes….."

Dragging his mind back to his work, Hiccup reaches for the one of the pencils lying on the table. The one he chooses is covered with tiny little dents, making him grin broadly as he starts to write. Round two. Oh gods yes, he can hardly wait for round two.


	4. Just a Thought

**A/N - Ok, so not what I was going to write today (Round Two is coming, honest, for those of you interested), but this little idea got stuck in my head. You can blame fanart if you need a scapegoat. This is not a smut though it certainly does have...ideas.**

 **So, Eret. Bit of an enigma that one. And now he's looking after Skullcrusher, so he's pretty much stuck on Berk. Just how does someone mange to fit into a tight-knit group like that? For some reason, this is the answer my brain gave. And it all became at bit Hiccstrid. Inevitably. I'm not complaining!**

 **For those of you who watch Doctor Who, my vison of Eret is as a Viking version of Captain Jack Harkness, working his way round Berk in a frenzy of flirting. If you haven't seen that show, imagine a good natured, big hearted guy with plenty of affection to go around and very little choosiness about who he gives it to.**

 **I see it as set some time after HTTYD2. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Just a Thought**

They way they'd become friends, Hiccup thought as he waited, was kind of strange, but inevitable. If he could go from enemy to ally, dragon hunter to dragon rider, in less than 48 hours was it really any surprise that in the months that followed Eret would become a friend too? A proper, honest to Thor, friend. And, to be totally truthful, it was great. Not only was Eret a big help in the re-building of Berk, he was a big help to Hiccup too. Astrid was, well, amazing. All the time. But even she couldn't be every single thing he needed. Of course, he had Fishlegs, Snotlout, the Twins. Gobber even. All awesome. But to be able to sit down for a beer at the end of a long day with someone who, as much as he'd adopted the tribe, wasn't actually a Hooligan, didn't have all that weight of shared history and who he didn't have to constantly 'chief'? It was a relief, that's what it was.

"Sorry for the wait Chief," Eret grinned, returning to his seat and plonking down four wooden tankards, "I got talking to Lars. And Gunnar. And then Hilde… So it took a while to get to the keg."

"Of course it did," Hiccup laughed, taking his ale and taking a gulp, "it always does. 20 minutes every pint. Which is why you always bring two each. Naturally. No problem. What were we talking about?"

"The additions to the dragon racing rules. I really think that a few more obstacles would add a bit of drama and...oh, hey!" the big hunter broke off to wave at a young couple entering the Meade Hall, "Nice to see you!" They waved back, both smiling and also blushing. Especially the lad.

Hiccup chuckled wryly and sipped his ale again. "Honestly Eret. Is there a single Viking left on Berk who you aren't flirting with? You're cutting quite the swathe."

"Oh, I don't know. Snotlout's perfectly safe. Ruffnut." Eret laughed. "Probably Tuff. Drink up boss, you're falling behind…."

"Tuff's safe is he?" Hiccup repeated, still gulping at his first tankard, "Thor, I should hope so! Seriously though Eret, I thought I'd have to have a Chiefly word, settle some argument by now, but so far, everyone seems quite happy. I don't know how you do it."

Eret lolled back in his chair and opened his arms theatrically, "Ah well, Chief, there's plenty of me to go around!" His wide grin accentuated his chin tattoos. "No really, though, it's all in fun. Most of them know it doesn't mean anything. For the ones it does? Let's just say that's our business. As for leaving anyone out, you know my theory, if it's pretty, it's pretty. And I like pretty."

"Pretty?" Hiccup echoed, doubtfully, "Vikings…pretty? Viking _guys_? Pretty?" He glanced across the hall to where Snot and Tuff were enthusiastically engaged in an eel spitting contest, apparently involving much gurning and phlegm. "I'm not sure that's the word I'd choose."

Sitting forward, Eret looked Hiccup straight in his green eyes, lowered his voice. " _You're_ pretty."

Hiccup shot about a foot back from the table, slopping ale all down his front. Recovering, presuming that his drinking companion was joking, he assumed a tone of mock outrage, "Eret son of Eret, _I_ am a married man!"

Eret sat back, sipped his ale, casually smiling. "Oh, I know. I'm no homewrecker. I wasn't suggesting we leave Astrid out."

Hiccup simply froze, stared, bright red.

"Oh my Thor, boss, your face!" Eret burst out laughing. "Relax, Hiccup, it was just a thought." He shook his head, then spoke again, this time face composed, all sincerity. "Look Chief, this is me. I'm here, on Berk, and I'm staying. So, you want a dragon rider? You got it. An ally? You got it. A friend? A fighter? You got those too. You want this conversation never to have happened? It never happened. You want something else…? You know where my boat is. Now. If you'll excuse me, I think Gunnar desires another word… We're building yak pens on the north slopes tomorrow right? See you then." He patted Hiccup on the shoulder amiably then, picking up Hiccup's second drink, he moved off into the crowd, leaving the dumbfounded Chief on his own at the table.

* * *

Hiccup wasn't alone for long. Soon after Eret's departure, Astrid arrived, kissed him warmly and took the vacant stool. As well as his ale tankard.

"Sorry I'm late babe, mix up at the stables, some muttonhead put the terrible terrors in Stormfly's stall and she was _not_ in the mood to share. What did I miss?"

"Nothing much. Good day?"

"Could have started better, after you'd gone out Gobber called round…"

Astrid's chatter continued, catching him up on her day and Hiccup tried to focus. But…'It was only a thought'. The phrase just kept popping back into his head.

"And then I said, of course they could have your other leg if necessary. That's ok, isn't it?

"What?" he startled, "Oh, yeah, sure."

"Hiccup! You haven't been listening to a word I've said. What is it?"

"Sorry. Sorry. It's just…" he hesitated. "It's just, I was talking with Eret. About, you know, his 'friendliness'…"

Astrid smiled knowingly. "You mean the fact that he's trying his luck with pretty much every unmarried Viking on Berk? Causing problems finally is it?

"No, not that, not even a hint. But, he's not only talking to the unmarried ones now."

"Oh. Who?"

If it was possible to go redder, he did it. "Erm. Me."

"Really?" she grinned, clearly finding the topic hilarious.

"Yes! Well, no. Not just me. Actually, he made it quite clear that we'd _both_ be welcome."

"Oh? Oh." Lifting the tankard, she sipped the ale, speaking into the bottom of the cup. "That's not an offer I was expecting to hear today. What on Midguard did you say?"

Hiccup looked at his wife. Despite the lifted tankard he could see that her carefully averted eyes sparkled and her cheeks were pink.

"You like the idea!"

Her head shot up, "I didn't say that!"

"Astrid Hofferson-Haddock, you don't need to _say_. How long have I known you? I know your face backwards. And I know _that_ face. You like the idea."

She blushed harder now, but met his gaze defiantly, attempted to sass it out. "I'll admit there are aspects which are…intriguing." Suddenly she dropped the act, and her gaze. "Are you mad?"

* * *

Leaning towards her, Hiccup put two gentle fingers under her chin and lifted her eyes back to his. In a low voice, he asked,

"Astrid, do you love me?"

It was a ridiculous question, but he asked it seriously, so she answered it in the same way.

"More than life."

His tone lowered again, almost to a growl, "Do you want me?"

Pulling her head quickly back she caught his fingers briefly between her teeth, nipping them, before letting his hand fall. Her voice matched his.

"More than breathing."

His smile was the sun coming out. "Then what do I have to be mad about? Like Eret said, it was just a thought."

He took the ale cup from her and drank, but there was something slightly too casual about the gesture and Astrid gasped.

"And _you're_ thinking it!"

He jumped, startled, caught. "What do you…"

"Hiccup Haddock, you think you know my face and I don't know yours? Your little inventor brain is whirling away, I can tell." She chuckled with surprise and amusement, "You're wondering how it would all… _work_. Admit it."

"Fine. I'll admit to a certain amount of, curiosity. Are _you_ mad?"

Now she laughed, taking his hand and lacing her fingers with hers. "Same questions Babe."

"Absolutely the same answers Milady." And he kissed her, quite thoroughly. They sat for a moment, beaming at each other across the table, rest of the crowd utterly forgotten.

Eventually, rubbing his thumb across hers, Hiccup spoke again, quietly. "So, if you're 'intrigued' and I'm 'curious', what do we…." He trailed off.

"Do?" Astrid replied, stilling his hand. "Nothing. If we want, we can talk about it. A lot. But we don't have to _do_ anything." Their eyes locked and the unspoken final word hung between them, silent, but clear as a bell.

"Agreed." Hiccup stood, offered her a wolfish grin, and his arm. "Right now, however, I have enough 'thoughts' of my own to keep us busy for, oh, the next couple of years. Certainly a good portion of tonight. If you'd care to accompany me?"

She rose to join him. "It would be my pleasure."

Bending to her ear, he breathed, "I certainly hope so…" earning himself a swift punch and a flash of pink cheeks before his wife practically dragged him from the hall to make good his promise.

Eventually, it became just another thread in the cloth that was their marriage. A little in-joke, just for them. Sometimes tossed out to tease. _"Rub your feet again? Aw, I did it yesterday. Why don't you ask Eret?"_ Sometimes panted on fevered nights when hands glided over wet skin and their breath came hot at each other's throats. _"And then what would happen? And then what?"_ And sometimes not mentioned for months on end. Certainly, though Eret remained a great friend and ally as well as the biggest flirt on Berk, they'd never raised the subject again with him.

Yet.


	5. Dangerous Games 2

**Hello all! Before we start, I want to say thank you for all the lovely reviews and support. Much appreciated, honestly.**

 **A note for those of you who have expressed a concern - there won't be any follow-up to the previous chapter. There never was going to be, as the man said, it was just a thought... So if it wasn't your cup of tea, feel free to read on.**

 **This one is the follow up to Dangerous Games 1 and takes place the same day. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Dangerous Games 2**

"Hiccup! For Thor's sake boy, try and focus! You nearly dropped those on me!" The rough shout cuts across the clearing where Hiccup is trying to land Toothless and his latest load of logs.

"Sorry, sorry Spitelout, didn't see you!" He brings Toothless hurriedly down, unstraps the logs, pats his dragon's side. "Sorry about the landing bud."

"You didn't see me? Where were you looking?"

He feels the blood rush to his cheeks and tries to maintain an air of calm.

"Oh, nowhere in particular, sorry Spitelout. Come on, just stack those at the front and we're finished. Let's get done."

As Spitelout picks up the logs and grumbles away, Hiccup draws a deep shuddering breath. From the other side of the clearing Astrid, talking with Gustav, hears and shoots him a smug smile. Oh, she knows exactly where he was looking. Sending her up to help keep the A-team focussed on the fence building might have seemed a good idea to his father, but all that's happened is that he's lost his focus. Totally. He just can't stop watching her. The way she moves, the way the sun catches her hair, her smile, everything is a distraction. Even now when she's giving Gustav Hel for yet another mutton headed comment, those blazing eyes, hand on one hip, damn she is _hot_ when she's bossy. He can't believe how desperate he is for her touch. Those stolen moments in the hall earlier were, well, amazing - but they did little do ease the frustrations of their current 'together-but-not-quite' situation. In fact, as he recalls her scent, the taste of her, the way her hands had clutched at him as she trembled, Hiccup acknowledges that all it really did was make them worse. And given that she's now looking at him staring, Astrid certainly knows it.

Fence finally built, they make their way back to the rest of the dragons waiting at the forest's edge. Astrid walks at his side, deliberately just inches away. She's so tantalisingly close and yet, with the rest of the auxiliary riders around there's not one thing he can do about it. He wants to throw her to the ground and just take her, rough and hurried, pound himself into her until he can't remember his own name, but he has to make small talk, answer questions, play the Chief-in-Waiting, and all the while she's watching him, watching her. This tension is going to kill him.

As they reach the tree line, Astrid turns.

"Are we done for the day?"

Hiccup is so far from done that he can't manage a coherent reply, he just nods. "Great. I'll see you later."

Then, holding his gaze, she lifts her hands high above her head and bends back a little, stretching. From his angle, the apparently innocent move pushes her curves tight against the fabric of her shirt. Sweet Freyja singing. He groans involuntarily and she chuckles.

"What's the matter Hiccup?"

She saunters closer to him and, as she presses a chaste kiss to his cheek, her hand darts suddenly down and strokes firmly, lingeringly across the front of his breeches, "Having a _hard_ day?"

He hisses, lunges for her but she skips out of reach, laughing, sprints across to Stormfly and is up, flying back down to town. Hiccup, uncomfortably, and much to Toothless' disgust, decides to walk.

For once the evening on Berk is warm, sultry even, the late autumn sun beating the island with an unaccustomed strength. Hot air lies like a blanket across the village and as he and Toothless finally make it home, Hiccup is already stripped down to his tunic, leathers swinging in his hand. All he wants now is something cold to drink, the chance to strip out the rest of his sweaty clothes and some time alone. No, actually, scratch that, all he really wants is something cold to drink, the chance to strip out of his sweaty clothes and some time alone with his dangerously desirable lover. The walk and the heat have done nothing to calm the fevered thoughts and images filling his head, so, yes, some alone time with Miss Hofferson, to strip off _her_ sweaty clothes, would be very welcome indeed. But, as he sees his father waiting on the porch of their hut, mug in hand, he realises all he's actually going to get is the drink.

"Thanks Dad." Hiccup takes the mug and knocks back a gulp. The water is icy and the cold spreading through his over-sensitised flesh makes him shiver. "That's definitely welcome this evening."

"Yes," Stoick replies, "on days like this we're all grateful we've the dragons to bring ice down from the high slopes. Skullcrusher and I have been up there so many times this afternoon I've lost count. I'll be pleased when you've built that cold storage house!" He gestures to the two chairs out on the porch. "Come and sit. I thought we might talk out here a while, catch what breeze there is, eh?"

The last thing Hiccup feels like doing is being sociable, but he knows his father misses him, that he's not home as often as he could be, so he slumps into the offered chair, Toothless settling to curl up at his feet.

"Good day Dad?"

"Oh of course, like I say, ice to fetch, Vikings to chief, plenty to do, as always. How did you get on with building the new palisades on the forest's edge? All done are they?"

"All done," Hiccup confirms. "Keeping the A-team riders focused isn't always exactly a piece of cake, but they did well enough."

"But I sent Astrid out to you. Surely that helped?"

"Yeah, sure, Astrid was...great. Astrid was great." He takes another gulp of water to hide the sudden flush rising to his face.

"That's good. Well. I hope you're not too tired. There are serious things we need to discuss. Plans to make son, plans to make. It's not every day you start your journey to becoming Chief, we have to make sure everything is in place…."

Stoick continues, and Hiccup nods in all the right places, makes all the right noises, but his mind isn't focusing on the future. Actually it's focusing just a little way down the across the village, on Astrid's house, where he can just see a light glowing in the dusk from the small upstairs window. Astrid's room. She'll be getting ready for bed now and he pictures the routine he's seen so many times, she'll be stripping off her armour, taking down her braid to let her hair tumble across her white, white shoulders. Perhaps wiping away some of the sweat of the day, running a damp cloth around her throat, the beads of water will run across her skin, down the swell of her breast, gather on a rosy nipple, inviting him to kiss them away. Despite the heat, the hairs rise on his arms and he shudders, feeling his blood racing again. If this were Dragon's Edge instead of Berk where there are so many eyes, so many rules, he would be there. In her room, in her bed, in _her_. Faster than fury. He swallows hard. Gods, this is ridiculous, three weeks isn't even that long, he's acting like a hormonal fifteen-year old. But he's on fire with missing her. He needs to see her. Right now.

Eyes locked on the faint light, he pushes up out of the chair, ready to march across the square and climb up through her window if necessary...

"Son? Are you feeing alright? You're sweating, red as my beard and I'd swear you haven't heard a word I've said!"

Ah. Yes. Brought back to reality with a thump Hiccup freezes. This is too embarrassing; he has to leave before either his thoughts pop out of his mouth or his anatomy betrays him further. He wipes a hand across his brow, grimaces exaggeratedly and sighs.

"Too much sun I think Dad, not used to it. I'm gonna head up, get some sleep. Can we talk tomorrow?"

Stoick eyes him sceptically, but nods. "Fine. Tomorrow."

"Thanks Dad. Toothless, you coming up bud?"

Cocking his head to one side and raising an ear, the dragon looks in the house and towards the stairs, chuckles and snorts, puts his head back down on his front feet and closes his eyes.

"What? Something wrong with our room?"

"He can stay out here with me." Stoick pats the black head affectionately. "We'll keep watch on the village for a while. Leave the door open as you go, it's too damn hot tonight."

Relieved, Hiccup makes his way up the stairs to the safety and darkness of his room, where at least his thoughts are his own. As he climbs he finally pulls off his tunic, throws it to the floor and pauses, savouring the air on his bare chest. He heads for his bed, completely unaware of the figure in the shadows until the strong arms come from nowhere and wrap around him.

"Yaarggh!" He yelps, taken by surprise as he is spun and thrust toward the wall. A booted foot swiftly kicks his own feet apart forcing him to lean, to throw out his arms and put his palms to the wall or fall. Hands hold him from behind, one is hard on his chest, the other grips the two little braids by his neck, dragging his head just slightly back. He is about to yell out again when he realises he recognises that boot, those hands, and the shape of the armour-less body pressed firmly against his own. He can hear the grin in Astrid's voice as she pulls on his hair, forcing his ear to her lips and breathes,

"Round two Hiccup. Let's see how silent _you_ can be…"

She takes his earlobe between her teeth, nibbles then sucks on the flesh, making him groan quietly. He lifts one hand to reach behind for her but she bites down sharply and hisses "No." He yelps again, replaces the hand.

"Everything alright Hiccup?" Stoick's voice shouts from below "Did you call?"

"No!" he exclaims, "No, Dad, it's fine, I just, nngh…" he loses voice as her tongue skims lightly around the shell of his ear. Breathing in, ignoring the way his skin has gone all to gooseflesh he finishes, "I just...stubbed my toe. It's fine. Don't come up! I mean, you don't have to come up."

"Alright then. Goodnight."

"Night!"

Astrid smiles against his cheek, whispers, "You're going to have to do better than that. Stay still."

Her hands loosen, testing if he will do as he's told. He does. He feels her smile again. "Good boy."

He growls low in his throat, but stays motionless as her hands begin to move. Teasing fingers trace a path from his ear, down his neck, across his collar bone, drawing invisible patterns across his hot skin. She's barely touching him but the caress is so intimate, so intense it sets his flesh alight. Around and around the fingers go, along his throat, his arm, back up his neck and into his hair. Her other hand is moving too, her nails dragging lightly across his chest through the scattered hairs, finding his nipple standing hard, circling it, pinching. She never stops, trails of fire thread across his torso as her hands claim every inch of him, his breath comes hard, his head is swimming. And then, suddenly, they are gone. For a long, agonised second Hiccup stands, trembling with the sudden loss, then inhales sharply as she sweeps quickly across his ribs. He convulses under the light touch but it ends too soon. Nothing again, then she glides her tongue around his shoulder blade, tracing the hard muscles, flexed from supporting his weight. Then nothing. A fingertip trails up his spine. Nothing. Hands back in his hair, pulling gently. Nothing. It is almost unbearable. Each pause is different, longer, shorter, he has no idea how long she'll make him wait or where she'll touch him next and he jerks with each teasing caress as shivers run constantly, uncontrollably through him. He is panting now but determined not to make a sound, a resolution he instantly breaks when she bites into his shoulder, hissing, "Oh, holy _fuck_!" through clenched teeth. His hands claw against the wall as his knees shake. Again and again she darts in with fingertips, tongue and teeth then disappears, a million tiny touches from nowhere until he is drunk with them, dizzy on the exquisite frustration. She lifts her hands again and this pause is long, longer than any of the others has been. Tingling all over, tight as a bow-string he waits. And waits. And waits. Just as he is about to give in, to turn and take hold of her, one hand grabs firmly onto his hip, pulling him backwards so his ass presses snugly into her while the other runs smoothly down, down his side, across his taut stomach and her fingertips slide under his waistband and into the heat beneath.

He can't help it, he gasps, not loudly, but still she breathes "Shhhhh" into his back as her other hand leaves his hip and begins to untie the laces of his trousers. Undone, she pushes them open, down and his freed cock rises hot and hard as iron into her waiting palm. Hiccup drops his head, closes his eyes as she begins to touch him again. Feather-light she runs her fingers through his coarse hair, circling round the base of his shaft, bringing him to even further, almost painful, hardness. His elbows buckle and he has to step forward, rest his forearms on the wall to stay upright. Unrelenting, Astrid ghosts her fingers up his throbbing length, just barely brushing against him, circles and caresses round the head, finding him wet and wanting, before running back down. And then back up, and back down, always staying just short of what he becoming more and more desperate for. Her fingers dance around him, twisting, turning, teasing. He is lost in it. It is wonderful, and it is awful, and it is endless. His mouth opens in a grimace, a silent moan of pleasure and frustration. Without warning, she takes him fully into her hand, wraps him firmly, grips him and he has to bite back a sob. His hips buck wildly and, as if given a signal, Astrid begins to pump him hard. Her strength is everything he has waited for and as her free arm comes up to brace across his chest and hold him he leans his head back onto her shoulder, gives himself over. Her hips push against his from behind, moving in time with her hand and a series of small noises force their way from his tight throat. He is close, so very, very close and he knows he won't be able to keep silent much longer.

"Ah, As…Ast…. _Astrid_ ," he chokes into her hair, "I'm… _Astrid_ , I'm so, so…I _can't_ …"

Quickly, she releases him, drops to scoop up his discarded tunic and, before he can move, comes around to hold him face to face. With one hand she presses the cloth against him as the other pulls his head down to meet to hers. He grips her hips, thrusting fiercely, desperately against her as he reaches his end and she opens her lips under his, takes in his tongue and swallows all his cries.

Thoroughly, blissfully dazed, Hiccup is only vaguely aware of being led to his bed, being laid down, covered with blankets. Astrid kisses him lightly as he blinks against the candlelight, she is smiling warmly with just a touch of smugness.

"Sleep well babe" she murmurs and though he reaches for her as she moves away she is gone, disappeared silently back into the shadows as if she had never been there, the only trace of her presence to be found in his still-quivering body. Dimly, as he swims back towards some semblance of consciousness, he hears his father's low voice chatting to Toothless, though he can't make out any of the words. No doubt more talk about 'plans for the future'. Too exhausted to cope with the thought, Hiccup rolls over. His pillow makes a strange crackling noise and he reaches under to find a piece of parchment. He opens it and can just make out the runes, written in Astrid's hand:

 _I win. Best of three? xxx_

When did she…? Despite his weariness he grins, his heart begins to speed a little again, his tired flesh stirs. Perhaps he will start making some plans for the future after all. When he has the strength to move of course. Oh, yes, Milady, plenty of plans.


	6. Itchy

**Hello all, nice to see you again, finally got this one finished! Real life, pffft.**

 **I've set this one after RTTE 4, pretty near the start of canon Hiccstrid (no particular reason for the timing, just because I really struggle to write outside canon!), maybe a few months in, at that point where things are and have been getting physical for a while, but there are still lots of new things to discover. It's a personal head-canon of mine that Astrid is one of those people who finds it difficult to relax. She's not the most chilled character, always doing something or planning something, and I wondered if her inability to turn off might affect her ability to, erm...turn on, as it were. But how to get past that? Start with a fight of course...**

 **Hence this piece of fluffy smut / smutty fluff. Which I very much hope you'll enjoy. As always, reviews are deeply appreciated xx**

 **(I hate not being able to do paragraph indents. Look for a little o0o to tell you where the paragraphs are)**

 **Itchy**

"Hiccup Haddock, you son of a halftroll, rat-eating, munge bucket... I swear to Thor, I will kill you for this!"

Hiccup hadn't realised that blue could burn but looking into Astrid's furious eyes he knew it now. Almost he wished he was still wearing his armour. He was in _deep_ shit.

"I swear, I will gut you like a fish! Like a fish, Haddock! You are a dead man walking if you've given me fucking dragon lice!"

She was spitting fury, all flashing eyes and venom, blonde hair in the firelight a halo around her storm-clouded face. He had to admit, at that moment she was both desperately attractive and completely terrifying. She took a violent step towards him and he backed off hurriedly, raising both hands to ward off the attack.

"Astrid, come on, I only said you _might_ have them, it's not that bad..."

"Not that bad? Not that bad, Haddock? Did you not hear me say dragon lice? _Dragon lice_? I told you not to go messing with those Edge Nadders, but oh no, Mr Dragon Master has to play with every single dragon he meets, even the skanky ones. And now he has dragon lice!"

"Astrid, they're just tiny bugs…."

"I hate bugs."

She folded her arms and glared at him. He took his life in his hands and moved over to her, placed his hand on her arm.

"Don't tell me Fearless Astrid Hofferson is afraid of a few tiny bugs?"

"I didn't say I was afraid of them, I said I hate them." She slapped his fingers away furiously, "And right now, I hate you too. Don't come near me with your 'tiny bugs'! Touch me again and I'll…"

"You'll gut me like a fish. I know." Running his fingers through his auburn mop, he chanced a smile, "Astrid, they're gone, look, all sorted. Gothi did it for me, that's why I went to Berk. And she said we should check you."

Her eyes narrowed even further. "And why would she say that?"

"I guess, because she knows we, erm…spend a lot of… time… together?"

"Oh fabulous!" She threw up her hands, "now it's lice _and_ gossip. Two of my most favourite things."

"Gothi hardly gossips and you know it. But she said it was important I check you over."

"If it's that important, why aren't I flying to Berk so Gothi can check me herself?"

Hiccup's wave took in everything from her stiff, furious stance, feet firmly planted to allow her to spring, all the way to her angrily furrowed brow. Not forgetting the clenched fists and axe within easy reach.

"I think, maybe, because of this?"

"You just gestured to all of me!"

"And I think perhaps 'all of you' is why Gothi decided to delegate." Hurriedly, he dug in his pack and brought out a small stoneware bottle. "Look Astrid, it's no big deal, I just need to have a look at your hair and if we find anything, this will deal with it. It's just oil and a hair comb, you can put up with that for half an hour!"

She thrust out her hand. "Give."

He passed over the bottle and she angrily drew the stopper, tossing it over her shoulder. It bounced off into the shadows as a rich herbal scent filled the room. "I guess that doesn't smell so bad. Not up to Gothi's usual standard."

"See?" he smiled. "So. Come sit by the fire and we'll get this done."

She placed the bottle carefully on the hearth and walked to him. Fingering the edges of his shirt, she pulled on the laces at his throat.

"First things first. Take off your tunic."

"What?" he coughed, "Why?"

She smirked. "Because if you're going to be throwing oil around then it's not my shirt that's going to get ruined."

"Fine!" Exasperated and blushing, he went to his clothing chest brought out an old green tunic he'd been saving for rags and threw it to her. "Wear that, it's too small for me now anyway."

She caught it and stood, waiting, staring at him, one eyebrow raised.

"What _now_?"

"Turn your back."

"Astrid, I've seen you get changed a ton of times…."

"And I'm still mad at you, lice boy. Turn your back!"

"Okay, okay, my back is turned! Thor help me. Come sit by the fire when you're done."

o0o

Hiccup settled himself by the hearth where the light was best, pulling a thick woollen blanket down from a nearby chair to cover the wooden floor beneath him. Hearing her walking up behind him, he asked, "Can I look now?"

"If you must."

She stepped into the firelight and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. She was _gorgeous_. Tall and golden in the fire's glow, his tunic, which had been fine for a skinny 15 year-old boy, was not exactly generous when covering the curves of a grown woman and the fabric pulled in fascinating ways. Her bare feet drew his gaze up her strong pale legs which seemed to go on forever until disappearing under the hem into some very interesting shadows…Seemingly unaware of the way his blood was humming, Astrid sat herself between his knees with her back to him. She sat up very straight and stiff, legs crossed beneath her, carefully avoiding touching him in any way.

"Let's get this over with."

He couldn't help it, he peeped over her shoulder.

"Do you realise from here I can see right down your…"

"Do. Not. Even. Think. About. It. Haddock."

"Right. Yes. Gut me like a fish. I remember." He raised his hands to her hair tie. "Milady, I can make no promises."

o0o

Astrid expected to hate every minute of the whole thing. In fact, she was _determined_ to hate every minute of it. No one ever touched her hair, ever! She hardly spent any time on it herself. It was braided up tightly every day, out of the way like a warrior's should be and she only kept it long because that made the braiding easier, more efficient. She couldn't bear all that messing about some of the girls on Berk seemed to delight in, all that time spent putting hair up, down, twisting it this way and that; it seemed utterly pointless when there was axe work to do, or dragons to fly. Not her style. And now she had to sit through the gods only knew how long of yakshit _fiddling_ all in the name of bugs. Yes, she would hate every single minute. Except. Except that as the strands parted under his careful fingers her own body began to betray her. The gentle pulling and tugging sent unexpected shivers down her back and it was all she could do not to shudder. Goosebumps flooded her skin as he began to unpick the smaller braid that ran across her crown, making the hairs on her arms stand on end.

"Are you cold? I can fetch another blanket."

She shook her head mutely, not trusting her voice, not wanting him to know the effect he was having. She was mad at him! He had given her bugs! This wasn't sexy! The way her belly clenched and trembled as his deft hands unravelled the intricate knots said most thoroughly that she was lying to herself. Tell-tale goosebumps ran down her arms again and only supreme self control kept her still as shivers prickled through her insides. She was _not_ going to show him! No way.

o0o

Taking her hair down was always pleasant enough at the end of the day, but she had had no idea that letting someone do it for her, letting Hiccup do it, would feel like this. It was so, _intimate_. So personal. Which was, frankly, ridiculous, considering all the other…things they'd done together since they crossed that line , but this…It was as though he was unravelling something inside her, teasing out some knot she'd held tight without even knowing about it and she could feel herself coming lose, coming undone at his touch. He reached the end of the braid and swept her hair back with both hands, his thumbs skimming her hairline and dragging a wave of sheer pleasure with them, across her temples, coming to rest briefly in the pressure at the nape of her neck as he gathered all the strands into one hand and lifted their weight. Sweet Freyja singing, did this feel so _good_? The back of her neck was strangely cool, the rest of her growing warmer, no, hotter by the second.

"Gods, Astrid, your hair is gorgeous, did you know that? Of course you did, _I_ did…but it's so heavy and so many different colours!"

He poured it from hand to hand, admiring, as she bit her lip to keep from groaning with the sensation of it.

"Beautiful. And, mmmm, it smells like…" Hiccup lifted his hands to bring her hair up to his nose. The sudden movement pulled, just a little, and the exquisite shock made her gasp and jerk, her nipples hardening under his green tunic as if connected to her scalp by lines of fire. If he'd chosen to he could have pulled harder, claimed her mouth for a kiss and the rest of her too with not a squeak of protest but instead, completely misreading her reaction he apologised,

"Gods, sorry, sorry I didn't mean to...I'll get on with it. It's just, I've never seen your hair loose before. Anyway. Let me comb it through and we'll see what we can see."

He leaned to the hearth to pick up the comb and Astrid let her breath go, silently. At least the comb would mean he'd keep his hands to himself, and that had to be better, right?

o0o

At the first pass of the wooden teeth she knew she was wrong again. From her brow to her neck, down her back, he was setting her alight. The tiny teeth scraped the delicate skin along her scalp, maddeningly, teasingly, sending little lightning shocks which filled her skin. How could combing her hair affect her whole body? But it did. From the soles of her feet to the crown of her head, she tingled. Pass after pass sent wave after wave of shocks through her until there seemed no end to them. She was dizzy with it, reeling. If it hadn't been for Hiccup's warmth at her back she would have sworn she was floating. She shifted, uncrossing her legs, curling one under her and straightening the other out for balance. The new position let her press her thighs together, as well moving her more snugly back between his. She felt surrounded, overwhelmed, leaned into him, no longer worrying about hiding her reaction, pride all but forgotten. Her head lolled. Hiccup put a hand against her neck to steady her as he combed back from her temple and she almost sobbed as the heat of his palm against her sensitised throat woke an answering rush of damp heat below. He was being nothing but gentlemanly despite his earlier jokes, nothing but methodical, and her entire being sang, screamed out for his hands. She wanted him to be finished, she wanted him to never stop, more than anything she wanted him touch her, everywhere. Oh, she'd told him not to but now…she couldn't find the words to ask, she was too dazed, too lost. His voice was throaty as he bent to her ear,

"Almost done Milady, almost done. Just another couple of minutes and I'll be all finished."

His hot breath on her neck was too much. She felt the last of the knot inside her give way and she moaned quietly as the shudder took her. As he continued to comb, smooth, scrape, lift her hair, she gave up, surrendered and let herself melt like candlewax under his hands.

o0o

"There, you don't have to gut me after all, not a louse in sight. Didn't even need Gothi's oil."

Hiccup swept Astrid's hair over her shoulder, smoothing his hand down the golden silk one more time. She sighed very gently and leaned back onto him, head resting against his chest, eyes closed. He smiled, dropped a light kiss onto her temple and accepted her weight, holding the pair of them up with his left hand and letting his right rest gently across her waist in a light embrace. Holding her for a long moment, he was slightly stunned at how still and relaxed she was. Usually, she was all fire and action, always working, training, planning, flying. Always striving towards the next thing, and the next thing, ticking off a mental list. Even when they were alone, even in bed, there was always an edge to her, as if her guard was never quite down, as if she never quite turned off. He wasn't in any way complaining, bedding still fairly new and Astrid's urgency and …athleticism…definitely worked for them both so far. But to feel her soften like this was, well, wow. It had to be the hair, though he would not in a million years have guessed it would have this effect. He wondered if she'd even been aware of those little noises she'd been making, or the way she'd moved in his lap. Hiccup tensed a little and shifted behind Astrid as remembering those tiny breathy whines sent a heated tingle through his groin. It had been extremely difficult to keep his mind on his task and behave, knowing that her soft skin was only a thin layer of fabric away, although thoughts of the fish-gutting had certainly helped. But now, as she rested so limp and so heavy against him, he wondered if maybe he was forgiven for the dragon lice. He hoped so. He was dying to touch her, to put his hands back into that gorgeous thick softness and see if he could make her whine again, see what other sounds he could drag from her. Surely he was forgiven? Looking again at her slightly-parted lips as she reclined warmly against him, another tingle sparked across his skin and he breathed in slowly as the thick heat in his blood grew. It made his mind up for him. He was going to push his luck.

o0o

"Astrid…"

Hiccup lowered his mouth to Astrid's ear and whispered her name, but there was no response.

"Astrid?"

Again, nothing. Astrid's breathing came slow and regular and her beautiful eyes stayed closed. Oh. Hiccup huffed through his nose and smiled wryly. Here was he getting himself all worked up, and Astrid, obviously more relaxed than he'd thought, had fallen sleep. Damn. Oh well. He swallowed down any disappointment, after all, there was always the morning, and considered the options. It didn't seem likely that he could carry her upstairs in this deadweight state and the blanket under them was thick enough, the fire still glowing warm. They'd just sleep here for the night then. Hiccup tightened his hold on Astrid, planning to slide himself around and behind her and cuddle up when his free hand knocked against the bottle of oil, sending it over. Catching it just in time he cursed inwardly as a few drops slopped over the side. Where was the stopper? Looking around for a few moments, he remembered Astrid tossing it away earlier. Well then, he'd have to move the bottle, he didn't fancy knocking it over in his sleep and waking up covered in the stuff. Balancing his rag-doll of a girlfriend against his chest he passed the bottle to his other hand and twisted, intending to put it out of the way on the chair behind them but the slippery sides made him fumble and yet more oil spilled. He watched as the drops fell, landing on Astrid's exposed throat and rolling slowly down the pale slope of her collar bone, out of sight under the neck of his tunic. Hiccup didn't even think. Almost of its own accord his hand dropped the bottle to the floor and dove into the shadows after the spill. It wasn't until his fingers grazed her warmth that he froze, realising he was exactly where Astrid had told him to not even think about going. Oh, gods, he was going to be in such trouble if she woke up. Lightly and slowly as he could manage, Hiccup skimmed his fingertips through the oil drops, wiping them up around the soft curve of Astrid's breast and back towards the tunic's neck, hoping to escape without being noticed.

"Mmmmm…"

The little humming noise was low and breathy and Hiccup froze again. When nothing else happened he withdrew his hand completely. Astrid stirred and exhaled heavily.

"Ahhhhmmm…"

That was definitely not a sleeping noise. He looked down quickly to Astrid's face. She was watching him through heavy-lidded eyes, a tiny half smile playing on her lips, cheeks pink and her expression so full of naked desire that his breath caught and he felt himself flush.

"Astrid….?"

"Shhhhh."

A finger pressed against his lips cutting off his question.

o0o

She didn't want to talk. Astrid was still thoroughly dazed from Hiccup's combing, all her limbs felt loose, languid and moving herself seemed almost impossible. At her core she ached, actually ached, to be touched. Gods, he had undone her totally and she wanted his hands so very, very badly. But she didn't want to talk about it, discuss it, take charge of any of it. Not tonight. No. She wanted to give herself over and be handled by Hiccup, in any way he chose. Behind her finger his lips opened again and she shushed him once more, shaking her head minutely. Closing her eyes she dragged her fingertip over his bottom lip and down, tracing the exquisite edge of his jawline, the column of his throat, noting his pulse speeding, across his shoulder and then onto her own. She felt his gaze as she grazed along her collarbone, following the path the oil had taken. Reaching the tunic's neckline she undid the laces by touch, pulling them slowly free one by one. Behind her Hiccup inhaled sharply and swallowed, at the base of her spine she felt him stir and twitch. Coming finally free, she dropped the lace to the floor and caught the edge of the tunic, pulling it up and open in an invitation Hiccup was only too happy to take.

o0o

Slowly, carefully, he ran his fingertips the way hers had gone, following the same path but further, reclaiming the curve of her breast. Astrid sighed and let her hands fall to rest on his thighs, giving him all the control. The change to their usual dynamic was intoxicating to them both. He cupped the sweet swell carefully, lifting and fondling, feeling her response in breathing and the fingers gripping his muscle. His thumb grazed across her nipple and he was rewarded with a soft gasp and a tremble and he watched fascinated as it hardened to a peak, pushing against his green tunic. Hiccup groaned seeing the tight flesh showing through the fabric. So many nights he'd worn this tunic and spent those same nights thinking about her, about this flesh, about how badly he wanted to be allowed to touch it, thinking it would never happen. So many nights fixated on her, the way she looked, moved, red hot with want, often ending up touching himself in an agony of frustration and now here she was, lying in his lap and filling out that same fabric in much more fascinating ways than he ever had, not only allowing his touch but asking for it. He felt himself harden as a hot spike of lust lanced through him making him shudder and his hand spasm, pinching her nipple and pulling a pleased gasp from her. Oh holy Thor, how did he get so lucky? His hand kept working against her, stroking, squeezing, pinching, rolling but it wasn't good enough. Gorgeous as the tunic was he needed to _see_. Astrid was still leaning heavily against him and he didn't want to move her so instead he put both hands to the neck of the tunic and pulled. It split easily down the middle and he unwrapped her like a Snoggletog gift. In the firelight her nakedness was glowing and golden, she was a goddess, and he bent his head to claim her with a kiss.

o0o

The cold rush of air had been a shock at first, making her skin pebble all over but his hands were soon back and roaming everywhere, warming her with delicious trails of fire, sparks igniting wherever he touched. His kiss was delicious, more insistent and urgent than usual and she surrendered to his lips, opening hers as he plundered her mouth with his tongue. Astrid didn't even notice the hand sliding back into her hair until Hiccup curled his fingers and pulled her head further back. She moaned into his mouth as her back arched violently, feeling her thighs slicken even as her hands clawed into his. He released her and she fell forward, his waiting hand capturing her breast again and holding her steady while he ran his other hand up her spine and back under her hair, pinching and teasing the wispy strands at the nape of her neck until she shook between his two palms, desperate with anticipation. At the next pull she cried out again and pressed back into the length of his body, grinding herself back into his hardness and startling an answering groan from him. He dragged her head back and kissed his way up her neck and ran his tongue around the shell of her ear, nibbled on her lobe and growled

"You have no idea how gorgeous you are right now, how much I want you. I want to just lie you down and take you. I want to own you."

Dropping his head he sucked on the pulse point in her throat for a moment as she squirmed.

"But I've got a job to finish first. I think I should check the rest of your hair, don't you?"

The answer burst from her like a prayer, "Oh, gods, yes, please."

"Alright then."

o0o

Hiccup bent a slipped his arm under Astrid, lifting her and swing her round until she lay fully across his lap, head supported in the crook of his arm and legs draped across his thighs. Gently, he pushed against her knee and she opened her legs, eyes closed and breathing hard. For a long moment nothing happened, then she felt him shift and squeaked in shock as something liquid splashed across her taut belly. Opening her eyes she saw Hiccup grinning as he poured out a little more of Gothi's oil.

"Might as well use it for something…"

Placing the bottle back down he ran his fingers through the oil, drawing smaller and smaller circles across her skin and down towards the triangle of golden curls. Carefully he combed through them watching her face contort as he teased, gently running a fingertip along the hidden slit before moving away, sliding down into the creases of her groin, stopping just short of where she obviously wanted him to go. But he was in no rush. He was desperately, painfully hard and his own skin was on fire where it touched her but the thrill of having Astrid almost at his mercy was worth any wait. Usually, she would be reaching for him by now, turning their lovemaking into a frantic, sweet competition but tonight she just lay back with closed eyes making those needy little noises and he loved it. Sliding with the oil, he continued to comb through her curls, scraping his fingernails against her skin once by accident and again when he discovered that it made her shudder and gasp. He would take his time.

o0o

His fingers were amazing and awful. What he was doing felt wonderful but at the same time she felt she might actually die if he didn't touch her more. She arched her back, lifting her hips against his hand, silently begging. He ignored her and she bit her lip to keep from screaming as again and again he ghosted around her throbbing centre. His nails grazed against her inner thigh and back up, skimming and she shook with frustrated need. She arched involuntarily again, panting just one word,

"Please!"

His hand paused and then, mercifully, pushed downwards through damp curls and into fevered flesh, and she heard him swear feeling how wet she was. Her hips bucked of their own accord as his fingers found her entrance and slid inside, stretching her deliciously and then as he began to move them slowly, curling them in and out, it was her turn to gasp an oath. She could have sworn she had never been this sensitive before, every movement sent her head reeling brought her closer to the edge. When he moved his thumb to press against her clit she was done, done, done, coming to pieces, about to…when suddenly everything just...stopped.

o0o

Hiccup wasn't ready for it to be over yet, he was enjoying this far too much. So, when he felt Astrid beginning to peak, to tense around his hand he just…stopped. She whined and wriggled piteously but he refused to move, only bending to plant little kisses on her face and shoulders. As soon as he felt her relax, he started to move again, twisting his fingers deep into her as his thumb caressed her sensitive nub. He didn't really know what he was doing, only that sometimes stopping made everything feel better when he did it to himself. It was taking a chance and he half expected to get punched for it, but her reaction was startling. He found himself holding an armful of shaking, writhing heat, trembling and gasping with each stroke of his fingers. She was wanton and gorgeous, showing him a side of her he'd never imagined, this shuddering, needy thing. So he did it again, waiting until she pulled tight as a bowstring then pausing, allowing her to climb down from the peak before pushing her back towards it. And did it again. And again. He was drunk on the power and sensuality of it, of Astrid completely surrendered. She arched and cried out, at the edge one more time, hissing,

"Evil, Haddock, you are pure evil!"

through clenched teeth as she anticipated the agonising break. He grinned.

"I know."

And instead of stopping as she expected, he moved faster, circling firmly against her hard nub, turning her breathy moans to desperate shocked panting. Caught by surprise, her whole body strained towards him. Bending to catch a pink nipple between his lips Hiccup drew it in, sucking hard as she buried her hands in his hair and pushed up into his eager mouth. All at once, the delicious frictions finally overwhelmed her and he watched a deep flush spread across her chest as she sobbed and convulsed falling apart around his hand and in his arms.

o0o

Astrid was still shuddering minutes later as he cradled her, her body shaking and tensing with delicious aftershocks. He couldn't help but smile, secretly really quite pleased with himself. That had been utterly amazing; he was in awe of her open beauty. He supported her weight and stroked her hair softly. Eventually, Astrid reached up and pulled him down for a kiss and he touched his lips to hers softly, not wanting to push for anything else, sure she would be exhausted and ready to sleep. But Astrid, it seemed, was not. She met his mouth eagerly and there was fire in the kiss. One slim hand firmly gripped the back of his neck, holding him to her as she as she sucked greedily on his bottom lip while the other worked its way under the hem of his tunic and toyed with his waistband, It was Hiccup's turn to gasp as she rubbed across the bulge of his cock, still wickedly hard and now throbbing desperately under her attentions. He tightened his arms to pull her against his body but somehow, she wriggled away, slid out of his lap to lie on the blanket, facedown with her head pillowed on her forearms. Her sudden absence was shocking and for a moment he was bereft, puzzled.

"Astrid? What's the matt…"

She interrupted him, meeting his frown with blue eyes that sparkled in the light, feeding his own words back to him and sending him almost crazy with a heady rush of sheer lust.

"Own me."

o0o

He needed no other invitation. Hiccup quickly pulled his own tunic over his head and ripped the laces from his trousers, pushing them down as far as his leg would allow. In a second he was behind her, covering her golden softness with his own pale freckles, lifting her hips just slightly to meet him. With one long stroke he pushed into her and they both groaned. She was hot, wet tightness, he was burning iron wrapped in velvet and together they were perfect. He didn't pause, he simply gave way to everything he'd held back as he'd touched her and drove himself deep into and into and into her beautiful body, pressing her down into the floor and claiming her for his own, always. Astrid wriggled beneath him as she worked a hand underneath her hip to rub her fingers frantically against her hungry core, her own need reawakened by his relentless pounding and the hard friction of the blanket-covered floor against her oversensitive skin. Feeling what she was doing and loving the wantonness of it, Hiccup thrust into her harder and harder making her cry out,

"Oh, gods, Hiccup, yes, just like that, fuck me just like that…."

His fingers clenched on her hips and he almost lost it. Moving his hand he cupped her throat, clawed his fingers in her hair and fucked her. Through ragged breathing he gasped,

"You're mine Astrid Hofferson. I own you. Say it. Say you're mine."

She sobbed. "I'm yours. I'm yours. Just yours Hiccup. Only, gods, yours. Oh, gods, gods, Hiccup, yes, Hiccup, Hiccup…"

Suddenly, she stiffened and he felt her clench tight around him, lifting her hips pushing back desperately onto him as her second orgasm ripped through her. Hearing his own name falling from her lips as she came was just too much. Jerking forward roughly once, twice, three times he met his own end and roared wordlessly as he spilled himself deep inside her, her quivering muscles holding him tight. Finally spent, Hiccup's knees gave way and he fell forwards across Astrid's back, just managing at the last moment to roll onto his side and pull her with him, so they were spooning. In the fire's glow they lay together, sweaty and breathing hard and smiling, even as their eyes started to close.

o0o

Astrid woke first maybe an hour later; the fire had died and she was getting cold and stiff.

"Babe, wake up." She nudged Hiccup who blinked blearily. "Come on, up those stairs, bed."

Hiccup struggled to his feet, pulling up his half-shed trousers and yawned.

"Are you staying? Am I forgiven for the whole, you know, bugs thing?"

"Promise to stay away from skanky Edge Nadders from now on?"

"Cross my heart."

She smiled. "You're forgiven. Of course I'm staying. Get upstairs."

He complied and she followed, wrapping herself in the blanket and pausing to scoop the little oil bottle from the floor. When she reached the top he was already stretched out on the bed pelts, a candle glowing on his desk. Seeing what she carried, he sat up and raised an eyebrow.

"And what's that for?"

"Well, I was thinking," she said, a sly, teasing note to her voice, "you have 'other hair' too, and I don't suppose you got Gothi to check that. Did you?" He shook his head. "I didn't think so. Guess I'd better do it then."

She swayed across the room and climbed onto the bed, sitting over his knees. Pouring a few drops into her palm, she glanced down to where he was already stirring and grinned wickedly.

"You'd best lie back, lover, and take your medicine."

He blushed crimson. Propping the bottle at the end of the bed, she brought a hand to cup her boy's cheek and smiled into his eyes.

"What? You think you get to own me, and I don't own you?"

Heart racing, Hiccup took her hand and shook his head again.

"Never, Milady."

Lifting her wrist to his lips he delivered a lingering kiss to her pulse point.

"Never in a million years."

He released her hand and did as he was told, lying back, arms crossed behind his head, closing his eyes, offering himself up to her ardent hands.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."


	7. My Dear Milady

**Just a little one, attempting to see if 'less is more' and inspired by a pin I found written for another pairing ( kudos to the original but I don't know who made it). It struck a chord, I thought it was pretty hot,and wondered if I could do something similar for the gorgeous Hiccstrid. So here you are. I rather like it. Hope you do too.**

* * *

 **My Dear Milady**

Astrid,

High in the air. Among the clouds. Wide wings. Falling. Swooping. Catching. Laughing. Eyes meeting. Blue. Green. Longing.

Grounded. Reaching. Fingertips barely brushing. Tingling. Needing. My hand. Your hand. Clasping. Our lips.

On the bed. Across my desk. Pressed to the wall. Behind a pillar. On the floor before the fire. Against a tree. Rolling in the grass. Bent over the table. In the sand. Under the stars. Anywhere. Everywhere. In the light. In the dark. In the shadows. Late. Early. Anytime. All the time.

Gently. Fiercely. Giggling. Silent. Teasing. Taking. Comforting. Conquering. Fast, furious, frantic. Sensuous, smooth, so so slow. Necessary.

Your whisper in my ear. My gasp at your throat. Hearts racing. Me taking your breath. You stealing my mind. Heat rising. Buckles. Straps. Laces. Leather. Cloth. Parting. Skin. Our hands gliding, revealing. Claiming. Your nails down my back. My teeth at your pulse. Kissing. Sucking. Marking. Your taste in my mouth. Feather-light touches. Clenched fists. A moan dragged from your throat. A sob from mine.

Weight. Mine against you, yours on me. Pressure. Frantic fumblings and long languid strokes. Eyes closed. The smooth swell of your breast. The calloused drag of my thumb. Pinching. Peaking. Your back arching. Writhing. My head bent. Muscles straining. Breathless gasps. Your hair against my skin. Mine gripped in your hands. Pulling, pushing. My aching flesh. Your mouth. Your secret heat. My tongue.

Slick. Wet. Hot. Needful. On your front. On your side. From behind. On my back. On your back. My hardness. Your softness. Pressing forward. Yielding. Joining. Tight. Stretched. Full. Fingers entwined. Hips lifting in invitation. Rocking. Strong slow thrusts. Your hands clutching my arse. Demanding. Driving. My mouth claiming yours. Tiny cries swallowed. Sweet friction. In. Over and over. In. Rhythm. Building. Your name panted continually. My name called out. Once. Your submission. My surrender. This perfect moment. Our triumph.

Amazing.

Our heads spinning. Lost. Eyes meeting. Green. Blue. Found. Pulses slowing. Bodies cooling. Cuddles. Kisses. Laughter. My arms. You encircled. Your head on my chest. Holding. Warm furs. Soft grass. Sparkling eyes. Small, sleepy smiles. Happiness. Completion.

My heart. Yours. Your heart. Mine. Our life. Always.

Today. Tomorrow. Always.

Starting….now?

Milady, I'm waiting. Come find me.

I love you. Always.

Hiccup.


	8. Taking a Tumble

**Yay, nice to see you again! This story collection isn't dead after all, there's just been that inconvenient thing, real life, to deal with. Pfft. Plus, I've been writing a couple of non-smutty shorts, feel free to check them out too if you're so inclined. But hurrah! Back on the, ahem, hotter stuff for a while.**

 **No real explanation for this one, it was a plot bunny that appeared and wouldn't leave. I suppose after watching RTTE season five and seeing how angry Astrid seemed to be for a lot of the time I just wondered how else that anger might manifest itself. Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing x**

 **p.s. I know, it got a bit sweary. But that's just the mood they were in. And I guess any reader easily offended probably shouldn't be reading on anyway…**

 **Taking a Tumble**

Wind whipping through his hair, Hiccup whooped happily the orange dragon curved round in a ragged but tightish turn over the sea.

"Yes! Well done! Now you're getting the hang of it!"

It was weird to not be riding Toothless but with the Night Fury still recovering from his injury, today had seemed the perfect opportunity to try some training techniques on a couple of The Edge's native dragons. Because a little extra help against the hunters wouldn't hurt would it? He leaned down and patted the Nightmare.

"Okay big guy, you've done so well, we'll head home shall we?"

Turning back over land and towards The Edge Hiccup couldn't help but grin. They were flying amazingly for a first try; they'd managed a swoop, a small power dive which had only gotten them a _little_ damp and almost a roll. And Astrid had said flying strange dragons would be too dangerous!

"Oh we'll have plenty to show to her won't we boy? Yes we will!"

He leaned into what should have been a sweeping left turn, only to meet resistance as the dragon tried to turn right towards a familiar noise.

"What's the matter? You hear the sheep? No, come on boy, you'll get fed back at the stables, we're going _left_!"

More forcefully throwing his weight left Hiccup tried to pull the Nightmare's head round but suddenly his mount had had enough training for one day. Ripping its horns from his grasp it tossed him into the air and, free, flapped out of reach.

"Damn it!" Hiccup ignored the whistling in his ears and scrabbled for the straps holding down the wings of his flight suit but they slipped repeatedly out of his grasp. Why couldn't he get any purchase? Quickly he checked his hands and cursed again. Slippy.

"Shit! Nightmare gel, dickhead! Think, Hiccup think… what now?"

But he knew that, for once, there were no 'what nows', no time and no more chances. Angling as best he could towards some thick looking undergrowth and muttering a quick,

"Astrid, I'm so sorry!"

He tried to make his body go loose. This was going to hurt like a motherfuc...

The appearance of a familiar orange Nightmare in the stables wasn't entirely unexpected but Astrid still groaned internally when she realised that it had no rider. Pushing up from Toothless' side where she _had_ been resting and enjoying the peaceful afternoon sun she stretched and sighed.

"I told him, didn't I? I said that trying to go solo flying with a half-trained Nightmare was _not_ a good idea, but did he listen to me? Of course not. I suppose I should go find him. Though I've half a mind to make him walk home!"

Standing, she patted Toothless and shook her head at his burbled enquiry.

"No T, you know you can't come. That wing is still healing and if you make it worse Hiccup will get to be mad at us. And I really think it's my turn to be mad at him, don't you? Faffing about with Nightmares and spoiling our downtime. Stormfly! Ready to track down a muttonhead?"

As the Nadder ran over Astrid chucked her fondly under the chin and swung up into the saddle. Grinning she urged her into the air and away, turning to shout back to Toothless,

"Don't worry Toothless, I'll find him! And I promise not to kill him before you've had your turn to tell him off…"

It took Stormfly less than ten minutes to pick up Hiccup's scent and power her way along the trail but that was plenty of time for Astrid to go from vaguely irritated, to thoroughly fed up, and then furious. She was sick to the back teeth of Hiccup risking himself in stupid ways. Wasn't their fight against the dragon hunters risky enough? Couldn't he ever take a break? Didn't he realise how important he was? To everyone? To her? The anger bloomed in her chest, growing hot and shaky. She glowered.

"I'm telling you girl, when we find that boy I will personally see to it that he is grounded until Toothless is better. I will take his leg if I have to!"

Stormfly squawked sceptically.

"Yes, I will!"

Stormfly banked and turned to eye her rider.

"I know, I know." Astrid conceded, "You're right. We wouldn't change him even if we could. And yes, I'm getting worried too. Surely we should have seen him by now…."

A flash of red in the undergrowth drew her eye like a magnet. It had to be Hiccup's tunic, but what was it doing down there? Driving Stormfly down Astrid leapt from the saddle before they even landed and pushed her way through the thick bushes, all the rage coiled in her belly turning to cold stone at the sight of Hiccup, curled and motionless.

"Oh, shit, Gods…Hiccup!"

She dropped next to him, knees suddenly gone to water, mouth dry and heart pounding. With shaking hands she grabbed his shoulder and tied to rouse him.

"Hiccup, Hiccup, come on…. Holy Thor, let him open his eyes! Look me…Haddock damn you, look at me!"

After what seemed an eternity he blinked and looked blearily around him.

"Astrid?"

All her breath whooshed out of her in a gasp of relief and her ears buzzed as she tried to steady herself. He was alive!

"Oh thank Freyja… Hiccup? Are you alright? Can you stand?"

He shook his head and blinked, his eyes clearing, "I...think so."

Helping him to his feet, she ran her hands quickly down each limb, patting for breaks and bruises and prodding his ribs, hips, collarbones, the back of his skull.

"Ouch! Astrid, Astrid, I'm fine, I'm fine! Bit shaken and sore but I hit the bushes and sort of ...bounced I suppose. Guess those Viking genes really do come in handy hey?" Rubbing the back of his neck he grinned ruefully, "Oh, but you should have seen us! Me and the Nightmare, we were doing so well! If he hadn't been distracted by those sheep…." He trailed off as Astrid's gaze narrowed and darkened. "Gods, love, you're pale, are you ok?

She had been intending to check his eyes for concussions or blurriness but now she froze, holding his chin. The question was so ordinary, so pathetically ridiculous, and so _inane_ that she felt something give way. Inside her, stone melted and hot rage returned in a wave, mixing with the adrenaline of terror and heady relief and thundering through her head.

"Don't you 'love' me!" she snarled, "Am _I_ ok? Am I _ok_? No, I am not ok! I told you, didn't I? I told you this was a stupid idea, but did you listen to me? Oh no of course not, I'm only a dragon rider too, I'm only your second in command, I'm only your girlfriend! For fuck's sake, I'm only your godsdamned betrothed! Why listen to me?" Voice almost a shriek, she gripped his chin fiercely and he squirmed.

"Astrid, calm down, I'm sorry! But I'm fine, I didn't fall far and I'm fine! It's fine!"

"No, it isn't fine. I was terrified! I thought I'd _lost_ you total _fucking_ idiot! Do you get it? I thought you were _dead_!"

Her voice broke as she yelled the last word and Hiccup stared, struggling to come up with any reply. Breathing in, he went to speak but whatever words he'd intended were lost as Astrid lunged.

Head pounding as much as her heart Astrid had no rational thought, just the frantic urge to take, hold, taste, have; to know that he was still there, still breathing, still real, still _hers_. She needed to _claim_. Crushing onto Hiccup's lips she swallowed his gasp of surprise and kissed him fiercely, desperately, one hand in his hair dragging his head down to meet hers and the other firm on his hip, holding him hard against her. She licked against his still, shocked mouth, demanding response, demanding entry and he finally began slowly to move. Astrid frowned and growled low in her throat. Nope. None of that, none of slowly, she was _having_. Sucking his bottom lip into her mouth she bit down none too gently, his sudden moan sliding between her teeth straight to her core where rage was rapidly joined by something hot and insistent. She wanted _more_. Smiling darkly and worrying the swollen lip in her teeth she bit and bit again, and again, before sloppily kissing away the sting. Hiccup's hands came round to clutch at her back and waist and Astrid felt his fingers flex as she pulled his head to the side and breathed across the taut skin. Mouthing rapidly along his jawline she made her way up the exposed column of his throat, licking and nipping and owning each shudder which rippled through him whenever her teeth grazed skin. Yes. Reaching his pulse point she sucked hungrily, dragging at his blood, marking him.

"As…ah! Astrid…" he breathed shakily between gasps, "Really, no, ooohhh ah, seriously, I just fell off a dragon…."

"Did you break anything?" she snapped, now nipping his earlobe and running her tongue up behind and delicately around the rim of his ear, which stole any reply he might have made. "No? Good. Shut up then."

With him effectively silenced she dived back to his mouth and plundered it again, pushing her tongue deep to tangle with his, licking behind his teeth. He moaned again and she pressed into the growing strength of his responses, her body tight and hot, her only thought a resounding 'Mine! Here, alive, and mine!'

But still it wasn't quite _enough_. With no warning beyond a squeeze to his firm arse she hooked a foot around his leg and stole his balance, bearing them both to the floor. A little dazed, he looked up where she sat above, straddling him.

"This floor is hard!"

"I'm worth it…" The crush of her hips proved that true and she groaned as his blood abruptly rearranged itself, pressing against her. She ground herself down again pushing for what her body craved.

"Too many clothes."

Standing, Astrid rapidly stripped off her boots, skirt and leggings before falling between his knees and ripping open his trouser ties. Dragging the offending material down and out of the way she smirked as his rapidly swelling cock came free and rose to meet her.

"Gorgeous."

"Here?" Hiccup's voice was half moan and half squeak.

"Here."

Bending forward she caught him, taking him in her mouth root to tip as he thrashed.

"Oh holy shit! Shit, nngh, oh _gods_!"

His reaction only fanned her fire and she swirled her tongue in one long lick before pressing him to the roof of her mouth, into her throat. Her tongue rocked against his length as she sucked with the same fierce hunger she'd shown his lips. Usually she'd spend a little more time, tease, draw the sensations out for both of them. But not today. Today the pace of her tongue against him matched the racing of her heart and the adrenaline still coursing through her blood and she wanted only one reaction. Hiccup didn't seem to notice her lack of finesse. Just as he began to arch beneath her, she drew off, holding her lips loose and slicking his length as she lifted. He whined in protest but before the sound was even finished Astrid lifted herself on her knees and then pressed down, taking him into herself.

Even in her frenzy she wasn't quite ready but the drag was dirty and delicious and she groaned in satisfaction as she bore down, feeling every inch slide as she claimed him. The starving, animal part of her mind howled again, mine, mine mine! Seated fully, for a long moment she simply stared, taking in the sight. Chest heaving as he panted, his eyes were blown almost black and a flush spread rapidly across his face and throat, meeting the darkening purple bruise where his pulse hammered. He was absolutely gorgeous. And he was hers. Astrid couldn't stand another second of stillness. There was no slow start, no build up. She was desperate with the need to be _full_ and _alive_ , craving him, him and more him. She raised herself up before dropping fully back down onto him with a harsh cry at the sweet impact that wrung the same call from his lips. She repeated and repeated, riding him mercilessly, hips rolling as she took him again and again. Hiccup was helpless beneath her as she rocked, a wanton goddess above him clenching him in her heat, and she was breathless, panting and mewling with both effort and the sheer pleasure. Just a little more…. His hands lifted, unsure, and she wrenched up her shirt before capturing and pressing them to her breast bindings, her nipples pebbled beneath. Pushing hard into his palms she hissed and then moaned as her free hand slid down to ghost around their joined flesh before pressing into herself. The spectacle was too much for Hiccup and he began to buck wildly beneath her, striving to match her rhythm and drive deeper and deeper,

"Ah, ah…oh sweet Freyja singing, shit! Astrid, nngh, Astrid, I'm gonna...I'm gonna…"

Her eyes possessed him as she slammed down onto him again.

"Of course you are." She panted, " Yes! Do it, I want to see you come for me…." Grinding her hips a last, few, desperate times and clenching him deep inside, she abruptly threw her head back and arched as the wave broke. It dragged her under, her vision whiting out as she screamed Hiccup's name. She was dimly aware of him bucking up once, twice more before he too cried out and trembled as he spilled into her. Then there was nothing but her slowing heartbeat their harsh breathing.

When she could control her breath again Astrid slowly lowered herself to offer Hiccup a kiss, then rested her head against his shoulder. Her lips pressed to his ear and she spoke, voice warm but laced with threat,

"You scared the Hel out of me babe. If you ever do that to me again, I will fucking kill you. Understood?"

"Understood Milady," he panted, "Though at the moment I'm more worried that if _you_ ever do _that_ again, you will kill me, fucking."

There was a shocked gasp and then Astrid began to giggle helplessly. The sudden movement sent ripples through both of them that sparked more gasps and then more giggles before they had to come apart, Astrid rolling to lie against Hiccup's side until their laughter died down. When it did, he gathered her into his arms.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. And you were right, it was stupid to go alone. You'll have to come next time."

"I have never been so angry in all my life. Mainly because I was bloody terrified. But it was a good idea and I probably overreacted. I'm sorry too. It won't happen again"

Hiccup smirked. "I didn't say I was _that_ sorry…"

"Oh shush you, I didn't mean..." She blushed, ridiculously, and began to gather up her things, struggle back into leggings, make herself presentable. "Besides, if you're planning on a next time _training_ , there's someone else you have to get around first you know." He quirked and eyebrow at her and she laughed again. "Toothless! Toothless is extremely upset with you…and you know how a Night Fury can pout. I think he only let me come to find you so that I'd bring you back for him to growl at."

"Toothless! Of course! My brain must be mush, can't think how that happened…" Grinning, he stood to gather her back into a hug, finally releasing her with a chaste kiss. "Well, if I've got grovelling to do we'd better head off, hadn't we?"

Together, they pushed back through the bushes to where Stormfly had waited and happily turned a blind ear to the humans' bizarre behaviour. Hiccup boosted Astrid into the saddle, then looked up at her, eyes twinkling cheekily,

"Though I suppose, if he's really mad, I could always show him _this_ , maybe convince him I've been punished enough already?" He gestured to his throat where Astrid's mark was now showing a livid red/purple. Looking down she smiled equally naughtily and this time the flush suffusing her skin had nothing to do with embarrassment.

"Who says I'm finished? You can go let him know you're ok, but the lecture can wait. I can think of lots of other places on you just begging for a mark like that. Not ready to give you back just yet."

Jumping up behind her he wrapped his arms round her waist and swallowed heavily.

"Promise?"

She nudged Stormfly into the sky.

"Promise."


	9. Sometimes

**A/N – Well, this is a bit of a PWP (I hear you gasp, no plot? My goodness!) inspired by the format of a gorgeous fic I read (see 'Smoke' by green_bow_violin – it's not a HTTYD fic) which was a lovely exploration of the thoughts behind a sexy moment. I'm a bit blocked on a longer fic I'm working on and have always struggled to write in the first person so I decided to write something similar as an exercise in exorcising both demons as it were. I rather think it suits an older Hiccstrid and I very much enjoyed myself. I hope you do too xx**

 **Sometimes**

 **Astrid**

Sometimes I think that it shouldn't still be like this. That just the sound of his voice shouldn't put a smile this wide on my face. That his hand skimming across my back as he walks past shouldn't leave tingling trails that I can feel for minutes, hours afterward. That one glance from those green eyes shouldn't spark straight to my belly and create wicked thoughts. But it does.

There are times when I think that it _surely_ shouldn't still be like this. That seeing him getting dressed shouldn't always make me want to slide my hand into those leathers and peel them back off again. That watching him run complicated meetings and handle Vikings who don't even know they're being handled shouldn't still make me want to pull him into the nearest dark corner and ruffle that calm exterior. That flying behind him for the millionth time shouldn't leave me staring at his arse and wanting to bite it. But it does.

We've been married more than ten years and I think sometimes that surely, surely, this should be different by now? But it isn't. I still respond to him as if I was seventeen, I still want him like I did when we were seventeen. I listen to stories some of the other women tell about their husbands, the nicknames 'Mr Quickly', 'Sir Snores-a-lot', 'Johnny One-Shove', the coarse jokes and I shouldn't revel in my total incomprehension. But I do. Because I just don't understand what they're talking about. And I know that makes me the luckiest woman in the archipelago.

Because Hiccup is mine. And I'm his. Always have been. Always will be. And I'm the one he comes home to, I'm the one who can hold his hand, stroke his ridiculously fluffy hair and feel his breath on my neck at night. And though I never imagined anything different, I'm still awed by it every day. That I'm the one. And how much I want to be. I didn't want our attraction to fade, but just assumed that it would lessen, become comfortable sunshine rather than lightning. I didn't want it, but I expected. And waited. And it never happened.

Which is why, when he comes to stand behind me, when he trails his fingers down my throat and grips me where my neck meets my shoulder, that my breath stutters. And it is why, even though this is the first time I've sat down all day, even though it's late and I'm tired, and the house is a mess and this scroll is one I really should read before tomorrow, when he tells me to "Stand up and come here" that I do.

There's only me who hears this tone in his voice, this imperious command, with just a touch of filth behind it. He gives orders all the time, of course, but there's only me who gets this heat. He tells me "Stay still." So I do. I hold myself in check as he removes all my clothes and unwraps me piece by piece, baring me to his hungry gaze as I ball my hands into fists that tremble by my sides. His eyes are dark as they look me up and down and I know exactly what he sees. I am not seventeen. Parts of me are softer now, parts harder, scarred and stretched and worn by life and battle and the bearing of a child. I am not unlined and perfect anymore. But his eyes travel every inch and every curve and every line and my skin prickles under that possessive, worshipful stare, as he swallows hard and his grin turns wolfish. "You are utterly beautiful." he tells me. I believe him.

The kiss, when it comes, is hard, and hot and so controlled. He pulls me to him, hands possessing my back and neck as his tongue pushes to possess my mouth, licking his way in to own what has always been his. I allow it, allow all of it, and though I am shaking with the effort staying still I let him take me because there is nowhere else I want to go other than where he is leading. Just as my knees begin to buckle and my head to spin, I find my body spinning too as he lifts me, whirls me over to the chair and down into his lap. He has one hand around my back and the other on my knee and he bends to kiss me again. He hasn't taken off a stitch, and the smooth coolness of his leathers is a delicious contrast to my heated skin. I can't help but press up against his chest, seeking that contact, that friction, and the straps of his flight suit rub and press against me in delightful ways. I jerk in his hold. Just the feel of the metal buckles catching against my breast is exquisite torture, too much and also not enough, and I can't help but squirm into the feeling.

"Eager little thing today, aren't we?" he chuckles against my lips and I mumble something I mean to be sassy that just comes out incoherent. He pulls me round and back, leaning me against his arm and shoulder and his hand begins to slide up from my knee, his calluses catching against my softest skin. "Yes?" he asks and my thighs drop open to reveal the flood of warmth between them as my body answers the question before my brain even hears it. "Yes." I tell him. It's always yes. His breath hisses between his teeth when he encounters the evidence of my eagerness and I feel his smile where my head rests against his cheek.

"Utterly beautiful."

The first press of his fingers against my flesh is like a blow and I arch against him, biting my lip to hold in my cry. He doesn't like that. The hand supporting me comes round to tug my lip from between my teeth.

"No." he says. "None of that. I want to hear you."

"The baby…"

"Is fast asleep. And hardly a baby. And I want to hear you. Moan for me."

So I do.

And I wonder if any of the neighbours will be able to look me in the eye tomorrow.

And I don't care.

He has so many ways of making me moan, whimper, plead even, and he delights in employing them all. His fingers push into me, so slowly, too slowly, just this side of rough. I turn to squeal my frustration into his neck and he smirks, I know he smirks, as he withdraws and returns, fucking me firmly at that agonising speed. His fingers are thick as they twist into me, caressing and crooking forward into that one spot that punches the air out of my lungs in a harsh cry as I'm sure I am set on fire. I push up to follow that touch, desperate, but his hand comes down to press and still my hips. I have to be good. I'll get my reward. Satisfied that I'm going to behave, he grasps my elbow and pushes it up and away so that I bring my arm up and around his neck. Stretched out impossibly I cling to his hair as his head comes down and he licks a wet stripe against my hard nipple. His mouth is sparks and desire and need need need and I cry out again, feeling myself clench around his hand.

Surely it isn't meant to be like this? Surely sane, normal people aren't still desperate for their husband's every touch after so long? Surely? How would anyone get anything _done_? But as I arch back into him, I know. It isn't like this for everyone. But for me, with him, there is no other way. It's always hot and needy and overwhelming. There's a part of me I keep chained up, locked down, just so I can function but he always has the key and as he sucks my nipple between his lips and _draws_ I feel the bars of the cage drop away.

"Oh gods, yes, fuck, Hiccup, please, oh, fuck, please, yes, I need, please, gods, please"

I'm rambling, incoherent, sobbing in my desperation but he understands. He lifts his head, settles back behind me, breathes one word in my ear, "Yes", picks up speed. The slow languorous slide becomes a rapid hard thrust and his hand pounds into me and I'm fucking myself onto him now too, chasing the end, and when his thumb comes up outside to meet his fingers inside in an insane, exquisite pinch I am done, done, done. I scream his name until his mouth comes down on mine and I lose all sense of myself. He has my body between his hands and my soul between his teeth and all I can do is shake and pulse and mewl and watch the colours swirl behind my eyes as he strokes my climax out of me and rides it with me all the way back down.

"Oh well done sweetheart," he soothes me as I return to myself, sobbing and laughing. "Well done my love. You are so gorgeous Milady."

I am thirty-five years old. I am a General of Berk, a dragon rider, a mother. But here, naked, trembling and sweat-soaked in his lap I am 'sweetheart', 'love', 'Milady'.

This is not a reduction.

"Okay?" he asks, humming into my hair and kissing my forehead.

I can just reply. "Amazing."

We sit for a while in the warmth of the fire and each other as I shudder through the aftershocks and he strokes idly against my ribs. Finally, I am able to speak again.

"Hiccup?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you feeling strong?"

"Why?"

"Because," I smile, "I very much want to take you to bed right now. But I don't think my legs will work. Care to oblige?"

He chuckles, but I feel the hardness under me twitch and it's my turn to smirk knowingly up at him. He chuckles again, this time more darkly.

"My pleasure, Milady."

And he stands, lifting me with him and I twist my arms round his neck and we climb upstairs to the bed where I will love and laugh and lie with this man until the very end of my days.

Sometimes I think that it shouldn't still be like this. But on my knees I thank the gods every day that it is.

* * *

 **Hiccup**

Sometimes, she forgets, this wife of mine, just how gorgeous she is. How gorgeous, how physical and how completely desirable. She forgets that she's a woman. A woman like no other, but a woman all the same. I can see it. Under the daily burden of being a rider, a general, a mother, I see her fading a little. Her colours start to grey, to wash out at the edges. And I know she's forgetting. And I know that it's my job to remind her. My duty. And my privilege.

One that I am always happy to fulfil.

Sometimes it's taking her out, just the two of us. Sometimes it's sending her out for some time on her own. Sometimes it's a little gift, something to remind her I know her inside out. And sometimes, the most delicious times, it's this.

She's reading at the table, head bowed, braid flipped over one shoulder and exposing that long column of pale neck. Irresistible. I move into her space, stealing her air and her focus, crowding behind her, and ghost my fingers down the taut line of her throat. She shudders under my touch and it's heady, that reaction, I can feel my body responding to it instantly. Like I'm still seventeen. Like always. But, right now, this is about her. The firm pinch I sink into her shoulder is a demand and the sweet hitch in her breath tells me that that's okay. She knows what she needs. And she knows that I'll give it to her. That I can't wait to.

"Stand up and come here" I tell her, unable to keep the pure lust out of my voice. And she does.

I take her hands and walk her away from the table, the chair, the scroll, out of the day and into our now. It's always been like this between, us ever since we first looked at each other and really saw. Whatever else is happening, we can find us. We can build our own little world in the hot spaces between our bodies, borders outlined by the touches of our hands and lips, each caress an exploration, mapping our timelessness. Gods, I want her. I want to take her, and own her and possess all of her and to have her break me down, fold me up and put me in her pocket forever. I am her Chief. I am her slave. I could eat her alive. I might.

Astrid Hofferson is a gift, so I unwrap her like one. She stands still but not stiff, pliant as I tease away each layer of armour, leather, cloth and linen fingering apart each tie and buckle as slowly as I can manage, until her hands clench and her knuckles go white at her sides. I know she wants to touch me as much as I want to touch her and that knowledge goes straight to my blood. I'm hardening in my trousers even as I'm devouring her with my eyes. She is truly the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen, each bump, scar or line part of the map, the topography of our life together. No matter how many years there have been, or will be, I will never not want this. Her. Glorious. "You are utterly beautiful". I breathe it onto her skin and watch the shiver run across her body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The sight of her pink nipples hardening into those tantalising peaks almost ruins my resolve to take this slowly and I have to swallow hard. Her blue eyes twinkle just a hint of smugness, for all the willingness to submit, she's proud of the effect she has on me, and I'm broken. I have to touch.

Two steps and I have hold of her, one hand on that slim neck, the other claiming her lush arse and I cover her lips with mine. She is mine and she allows me to take her because she's learned that sometime she needs to be taken. We've taught each other that. So I kiss her, and I let her feel the hunger I'm just barely holding back, tonguing her lips open and demanding entry, licking my way into her mouth, possessing and exploring every corner tasting the well known but exhilarating flavour that is my wife. I set my teeth into her bottom lip, nibbling its lush fullness, just short of biting and the tension goes out of her. Her knees begin to buckle, so I scoop her up and spin quickly to the huge wooden chair by the fire.

Yes, my love, yes, that's it, just let go.

In my lap she is a bundle of hot sweet skin, lose now, and wanton. She surges against my chest, pressing herself into my leathers, seeking friction. I let her squirm, ground herself on me, knowing she must be able to feel how hard I am under her, for her. But now the buckle on my suit has her attention and she drags her breast across it, the contrast of the cool metal making her jerk in shock and pleasure. A sudden flashback of the times I've trailed that buckle across her body, circled her slim wrists with the straps and _pulled,_ assails me and I have to close my eyes against the memory. My cock jumps, straining against its confinement and I know she could have me coming here and now without even touching me. I laugh because sometimes I still can't believe it and I kiss her because I don't understand it. How in Hel's name did I get to be so fucking lucky? She wriggles against me and it startles another laugh into the kiss. "Eager little thing today, aren't we?"

Her reply is nonsense but her eyes tell me what she wants and ask if she can have it. Of course you can sweetheart.

She is cradled against my shoulder and I hold her to me as I slide my hand up, up from her knee, to her thigh and _up_. Her skin is impossibly smooth and fine and she whines as my blacksmith's roughness catches. "Yes?" I ask and her answer is as much in the parting of her thighs as in the whispered word. She wants me to touch her as much as I want to touch and again I'm blown away by my luck. When I reach the junction of her thighs I can't help the hiss that escapes me, she is so hot, so wet and so ready. She is beautiful, so I tell her. Finally I press my fingers into her and she bites her lip bloodless to stifle her moan but that's not how this works. I tug her lip free.

Let go, love.

"No," I tell her "None of that. I want to hear you."

"The baby…"

"Is fast asleep. And hardly a baby. And I want to hear you. Moan for me."

And she does. A low, long, breathy exhalation that is sex in sound. I want to hear it again so I press in further, twisting and twining my fingers, pulling back, pushing in. I fuck her painfully, ridiculously slowly just to see her come apart around my hand, to have her squealing, sighing and forgetting everything except the touch of my fingers at her core. Crooking, I stroke into her most secret spot and am rewarded when she jerks roughly and cries out, a needy, broken noise. Her hips rise to follow my fingers and I hold them down. I need her to let me do this for her. I watch her face as need becomes resistance, then finally submission.

Yes.

She is mine now and I worship her with my hands. A deep red flush starts to spread across her chest and I can't help but pull her arm up and around my neck so I can finally, finally take her nipple between my teeth, lick it, bite it, love it. All the while I continue the slow fucking caress between her legs, twisting two, then three fingers into her until she is panting and shaking, holding still through sheer force of will. I want to see her lose herself so I pull her nipple into my mouth and suck hard. The string of pleading and obscenity is my reward. It tells me she is undone so I lift my head and tell her, "Yes", give her back to herself. Free to move now she is frantic, urgent, grinding herself on my hand and bucking her hips wildly to meet my thrusts. I keep her on the edge for long moments then bring my thumb up to press onto her throbbing nub and she is lost, clenching, pulsing and rippling around me and screaming a word that is amazingly, gloriously, wonderfully, my name.

Bending, I swallow it in a kiss and the tears that run down her cheeks as she shakes and laughs are not only her own.

I stroke her through her climax for as long as I think she can stand then just hold her as she comes back to me, flushed and starry-eyed but smiling.

"Oh well done sweetheart," I stroke her hair and whisper "Well done my love. You are so gorgeous Milady." And I am the luckiest man alive.

My whole body buzzes with heat and tension and desire, I'm achingly hard, but I ignore it in favour of enjoying her sleepy smile and the shudders that are still running through her. Finally, she speaks.

"Hiccup?"

"Mmmm?" I'm too fascinated by the sweat drying on her pale skin to focus.

"Are you feeling strong?"

"Why?"

She opens her eyes, and the look she gives me is full of teasing. And blatant, naughty promise. Oh, there you are Astrid, my love, there you are. My whole gut tightens.

"Because," and she smirks, "I very much want to take you to bed right now. But I don't think my legs will work. Care to oblige?"

There is nothing in the whole of Midguard that I want more.

"My pleasure, Milady."

So I scoop her up again and we make our way giggling up the stairs to whatever she has planned.

And, I'm pleased to say, her edges are as sharp and her colours as bright as I've ever seen them.

Sometimes, she forgets, this wife of mine, just how gorgeous she is. How gorgeous, how physical and how completely desirable. She forgets that she's a woman. And it is always my total joy to remind her.


	10. Afternoon Delight

**When I was young, I read, in one of those super-helpful girl's magazines, and article about flirting. 'Your inner wrists are one of the most sensual parts of your body,' it said, 'because people rarely get to see them. If you subtly flash your wrists at the boy you're interested in, it will definitely catch his attention.' Well, of course, that sounded like a load of old tripe to me, so I promptly turned the page and filled in a quiz to see which member of Boyzone I should date instead (yes, I am that old).**

 **But I guess it's weird what stays in your memory and when it surfaces. I've always been a bit intrigued by Astrid's super not practical arm wraps, like why? They look fancy but what use are they? What is she doing that requires protection of the forearms and not the elbows? Isn't she cold? Anyway, eventually that led me to remember that silly article and then I started wondering about how Hiccup might feel about Astrid's arm wraps, what they cover up, and, specifically, what they uncover once the two are far enough into a relationship for him to see them come off regularly.**

 **Add that to the fact that I was also thinking about birthday cake and you get…well. This.**

 **Before you ask, this is set at least RTTE, probably after HTTYD2, when they're living together. Hiccup might have had a thing for the wraps when they were younger, but I have not. It gets a teensy weensy bit D/S but, like, only a breath.**

 **The important bit…**

 **This chapter was written for the wonderful ShipMistress on the occasion of her birthday, I'm so sorry that it's a bit late, real life and the muse have not been that co-operative lately, as you know. But I hope you like this belated gift! I did base a fair bit on one of your favourite fanarts, you know the one I mean…. Anyway. Happy (late) Birthday to Shippy who keeps me (in)sane and many many happy returns. Love you lots! xxx**

 **Afternoon Delight**

Hiccup loves Astrid. Everyone knows it. And so it isn't too far a reach to guess that Hiccup loves, amongst other things, Astrid's body.

And he does.

He loves each and every part of it, its beauty, its strength, its hard muscles and secret softnesses. But particularly, Hiccup loves Astrid's wrists.

It's not perhaps the most obvious part for adoration perhaps, but something about them simply sends him falling into lust. The shape, the strength, the contrast of their pearly whiteness against the pale gold tan of the length of her arms. He loves to see the shape and form of her bones, the way they twist and shift like exquisite machinery, and to touch the sheer soft luxury of their underside where the delicate tracery of veins runs her blood just under the surface. He loves to press his lips over the pulse there. To feel her heat. To graze his teeth against her skin. To feel the beat of her life.

He loves to hold them tight when she's under him, to feel their fragility, to feel the power that comes from knowing that he could snap them in a second. And to bask in the wonderful glow that comes from knowing that she knows that too, and that she lets him hold her hard anyway, trusting implicitly that he won't. She trusts him and that makes him fly.

And he loves that the beauty, magic, sheer sensuality, of them is wrapped and protected. Secret. Hers. His.

o0O0o

He is cooking when she comes home, mixing up a batch of griddle cakes, a treat. Fresh from the stables she drops all her armour at the door, blows him a kiss and in just leggings and vest heads straight for the basin in the corner of the kitchen to wash up. He tries to focus on the bowl of sweet batter he's whipping into shape but honestly, the moment those wraps start coming undone, he's lost. He watches it, out of the corner of his eye, that slow unwinding and the tiniest choked noise escapes his throat. Across the room, in the dappled shadows, Astrid smiles knowingly at his rising blush and turns to stow her wraps onto a shelf, hips swaying just a touch more than necessary. He swallows hard and but can't look away.

Over the basin, Astrid works the hard soap into a lather, making quite the show of it. Her fingers slide up, down, over and around that freshly revealed skin, slick fingertips tracing the lines on her palms, just digging in, just dimpling the flesh in the tiniest shadow of how he wants to hold her. He is captivated, and by the time she lifts the pitcher to rinse away the suds, hands flexing and furling under the waterfall his chest is heaving tight with want.

She walks towards him, eyes glittering. Her glance drops low to where he is already showing hard against the linen of his trousers, her tongue flicks out to wet her lips and pull her plump bottom lip between her teeth, where she bites it, just enough to dimple the skin. She lets it roll slowly out again, smirking. The glitter goes dark.

His hands are full but she takes the bowl from them, turns and settles herself back into the curve of his body, begins whipping the batter herself, chuckling softly at his groan. He grips her at the hips and grinds slowly against her plush softness, letting the motion of her arm rock them both.

She turns her head and, all wide-eyed innocence and pout of mock-dismay, rolls her arm to present her wrist and shows him where the batter has somehow become smeared across the underside, over her pulse point, cream on white.

The growl he lets loose is hungry and he feels her shiver with it even before his hand slides feather-light up her ribs to her shoulder, making her gasp. He continues, down and along her arm so gently that she shivers under his fingertips, until he can close his hand at last around that wrist. His eyes never leave her face as he brings it up behind her head, stretching her out to reach his mouth, and licks away the smear with the merest tip of his tongue, torturing that sensitive spot until she's squirming in his hold. Merciless he pulls her further back and harder against him, sucks on that pulse point while she writhes until he can feel her blood beating against his tongue, hot and beginning to race. When he lets go, the mark is already rising rose-red and his whole body shivers to see it. He needs.

Astrid knows it. When he lets her arm go she brings it round to her own mouth, smiles at the coming bruise and soothes it with slow licks of her own pink tongue. Hiccup moans and his hips buck into her of their own accord. She pushes back, smiles slyly, dips back into the bowl and offers him dripping fingers to suck. He complies with singular focus, closing his eyes and drawing them into his mouth, cleaning every speck away with ardent swirls of his tongue, groaning deep in his throat and teasing the sensitive web between her fingers until she is shuddering and groaning too. Decadently slowly, he eventually allows her to draw her fingers away one at a time, holding the delicious suction, trailing each length with greedy lips until they're released with a wet pop. Breathless, she reaches for another scoop of the batter, locks their gazes again and runs a sticky line down her throat from jaw to collarbone. His mouth is there even before she's finished. This time he leaves no lasting marks but Astrid sighs and arches back into his sucking hold, moans thrumming against his teeth in a way that makes him certain she doesn't mind.

But if she keeps doing that, this is going to be over all too soon.

Spinning her is easy, her hands are still full and he's had years to practise, so in moments he has her turned in his grip, her leggings undone and halfway down. She gasps a shocked laugh and there's no protest as he pushes her back against the table, lifts her to sit on the very edge and strips them the rest of the way.

They're both breathing hard, both the cooking fire and their wild desire bringing sweat beading to their skin and Hiccup takes a moment to lift her wrist again and lick it away. His mark is darkening around the edges. Good.

He drops her hand eventually, takes the bowl, kneels and pushes in between her knees, spreading her legs and surrounding himself with yards and yards of naked skin. She's smiling a smug little smile that soon opens into a quaking 'o' of surprise as he trails his fingers to the bowl and then to her again and again, stroking sweetness in his wake. The back of her knee, her ankle, a trail of dots winding around her calf. A smear at the crease of her thigh, a smear beyond, between. Eventually, she's shaking in frustrated anticipation, knuckles white where she grips the edge of the table in an effort to hold herself back. Hiccup ignores her torment and continues stroking and daubing to his hearts content, until she's decorated to his satisfaction, a mark guiding him to everywhere he wants to taste her.

Hiccup's father always told him not to play with his food but he lies his wife back on the boards and plays her with his tongue, working to clean her up from toes to navel in a teasing, torturous, twirling tune that makes her back arch and her voice crack as she cries out for him to stop, to stop, to never, ever stop. He buries himself in her until there is nothing but her heat, her taste, the tremble of her flesh and her little, helpless mewling cries; nothing but his want and her desire and their never-ending need for each other. It ends with a slow, sly swirl of slick and sweetness and his name shrieked out as she convulses.

She's still shaking as he comes back to his feet and slides his body up hers, flushed and pleasure-wrecked, to claim her mouth and lick into her again. She cries against his lips.

She shifts a little, to move him away and he lifts himself, watches as she raises her hands to cross her wrists above her head, a challenge and an offer all at once. One hand pins her there as he has been desperate to do, the other manages laces, ties and cloth until he finally frees himself. Her legs to lock round his waist and draw him close as he pushes into her. Her small nod is all the permission he needs and he lets himself press on those irresistible wrists, her fine sharp bones exquisite under his blacksmith's palms and he moves and moves and moves, pulsing, pushing, lost again in her, the wanton slide, the rhythm and rock of his pounding hips.

It is a heady, sweet and debauched perfection and when it shatters it leaves him gasping, gasping his worship into her throat, pinning her down, _his_ , even as she tightens her own grip and pulls him deeper, _hers_.

There is a long, panting silence.

And then Astrid laughs. Hiccup pulls back and draws them both up to see the results of their play, crockery knocked to the floor, batter dripped and spilled, the fire roaring and not a thing left to cook. He's blushing until he catches her eye and she gives him a wicked grin. And then he's laughing too, sweeping her up in his arms and taking them both upstairs to see what other secrets they can find to share.

Yes, Hiccup loves Astrid's wrists. Their strength, their vulnerability, their pale perfection. And he loves Astrid. Tomorrow, when the wraps go back on to cover and make a secret of the beautifully deep purple bruise their passion placed there, they'll both smile to know they are marked.

His mark on her wrist, hers forever on his heart.


End file.
